


Between Languages

by AIMRWV



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee, Z.Tao (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Bottom Huang Zi Tao | Z. Tao, Cock Piercing, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, FamousAU, Fluff, Genital Piercing, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Nipple Piercings, OT12 (EXO), Piercings, Smut, Tattoos, Top Lee Taemin, Yaoi, famous zitao, tattooartist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AIMRWV/pseuds/AIMRWV
Summary: Can love overcome borders? A story about Chinese rapper Z.Tao and Korean tattoo artist Lee Taemin. Will their love succeed despite the language barrier?
Relationships: Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao/Lee Taemin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





	1. Part I - Korea

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a love-child of mine. I have been working on this for ages now and finally feel like it is ready to be read. It is a SHINee x EXO crossover, not something many people like to read/write. But I would be honored if you give this a chance, despite it being a crossover fic...
> 
> Please be nice ><
> 
> The main focus is on two people who cannot communicate due to the language barrier, and how they fall in love despite not beeing able to understand each other.
> 
> The smut in this story, despite it not being the main focus, will be grafic as always and includes piercings - so, if you don't like that, just skip it.
> 
> To everyone who decides to read this despite the unusual pairing:  
> WELCOME

Part I - Korea

Zitao clearly remembered the day he had found the Instagram account called “tattoist_ace”. It was before his career had properly taken off. He was still performing at small clubs mostly before a main act, not making very good money. That Korean artist’s work was captivating in ways he had never seen before. Back in those days he was using most of his money to get tattooed by one of his local artists that he became friends with through time. Nevertheless, he had the deep desire to get something done by the Korean tattooist, the only problem was that he was based in Seoul.

As barely had enough money to get around, it was impossible to fly to Korea just to get a tattoo done. So, up to today it had stayed a distant dream. Even if, after he had gotten famous, money was no longer a problem, time was. He barely had any free time at all, running from one place to another while working on new songs, giving interviews and performing at some of the most well-known clubs in China.

During that time, he got his body almost completely covered with the artwork of the first and only tattoo artist he trusted, Xiao. Zitao was incredibly picky with whom he let work on his body and besides his friend and that one particular Korean artist he never felt the need to go to someone else. Xiao did an incredible job and by now knew exactly what he liked, so there was no reason to look for a new tattooist.

Today, most of his body was covered in black artwork only his left arm completely untouched. He had saved it for over three years, ever since he decided to get it done by the mysterious Korean artist’s work.

Though he had made himself a name not only because of his songs but also through his tattoo’s and general appearance, his addiction to body modification also had a dark side. The pop culture in China was not accepting of tattoos and piercings which made it almost impossible for the rapper to be in any tv-shows or turn up in public media. Despite all of that, he managed to get quite the reputation, mostly in the underground scene and through social media.

After four years of constant schedules, Zitao was exhausted. He needed to recharge himself. Working almost non-stop for three years, his creativity left, his mind was constantly on alert, unable to relax. It needed a long time to persuade his manager to take a break, but he finally managed to convince him and the moment he gave in, Zitao decided to do what he had waited for for so long.

He was sitting in the private jet he usually used for domestic flights - on the way to cross a border for the first time in his life. Across from him, his closest friend from middle school was playing with his phone. Zitao had taken him along, not only because the other was half Korean and spoke the language, but also because he did not want to be alone in the foreign country. 

He had contacted the artist a few weeks prior, getting an appointment at his studio to discuss the artwork. Throughout the whole flight he felt almost drunk with excitement to finally meet the artist and get the tattoo he had been longing for done.

The feeling of walking the streets without anyone recognising him was unfamiliar but amazing, he didn’t need to wear sunglasses and masks, he could simply walk around as Huang Zitao without getting recognised as Z.Tao. Despite not being recognised, he still got many strange looks on the streets, but those were directed at his tattoos mostly. Even though he was wearing a long shirt and long pants, the tattoos on his hands and his neck were still visible. None of these looks were able bring his mood down though. He was about to meet the most amazing artist there is, and was enjoying Korean street food to the fullest.

With Louyu’s Korean skills, they made it to the studio in time and entered the building that looked more like an old apartment building than a tattoo studio. But that had been expected. As working as a tattoo artist in Korea was illegal without a medical degree, most of the studios were hidden in old buildings, no signs pointing to them whatsoever. Following the tattoo artist’s directions to the third floor, they found the door easily.

Shortly after they knocked on the door, a male, smaller than Zitao, opened the door, smiling at the Chinese man in a way that made the taller’s heart drop. He was gorgeous. Probably the most gorgeous man Zitao had seen in his life. After blinking a few times, Zitao realised that the latter had greeted him, making the Chinese bow and greet him in his poor Korean that he had learned on the plane.

They were led into a light-flooded room with brick walls that were only half painted with white colour. A long desk with a big screen and drawing tablet on it, made from reddish wood was dividing the room in half. Zitao noticed a few drafts lying around, pencils scattered across the table.

“Explain that you are here to translate” Zitao told Louyu and the tattoo artist just nodded when he had done so.

They were offered a glass of water and two black little stools to sit on across from the artist who took his place on the other side of the desk. Completely intrigued by the Korean male’s visuals, Zitao couldn’t help but stare, while the tattoo artist talked to his friend. The only thing he could make out from the conversation they had was that his name was Taemin.

“Alright, so Taemin – that is his name, wants you to explain what kind of tattoo you have in mind and where you want it placed.” Louyu said and Zitao answered right away, still not taking his eyes of Taemin who was looking back at him, waiting for him to speak.

“I was thinking of getting a Chinese dragon on my left arm, not winding around it but just on the outside of the upper arm. If it is possible, I would like to get a Buddhist-temple in the background that goes all around the arm. And on the inside of the lower arm I would like to get ”天地间是谁 唤醒日月 万物召晖 融化冰寒江的水 苍穹下是谁 大千世界 遥遥之路” written in Chinese characters.”

While Louyu was translating what Zitao had said, Taemin’s eyes grew bigger and he answered shortly after the other had finished translating.

“He says that this sounds like a really big project and that it will take at least four sessions to complete and will be expensive.”

“Tell him that that is fine, money is not a problem. And ask if it would be possible to get it done in three sessions, it’ll be hard to come four times.”

Taemin reassured them that they could somehow manage, even if it was a tight schedule and Zitao would have to get it done in bigger batches though which could be straining. 

After Zitao wrote down the song lyrics in Chinese and clarified some more things about the motive, they stayed to make a few sketches together. Taemin asked the taller to take off his shirt so he could take a look at his arm, measuring the sizes for the artwork. Zitao did not miss the impressed look on Taemin’s face when the latter saw the artwork that covered most of his chest, neck, back and right arm. It almost looked strange to see the left arm completely white.

Taemin’s light touch when he measured his arm sent shivers down his spine and he hoped that the tattoo artist wouldn’t notice the goose bumps he had all over.

When Zitao had his shirt back on, they went through some sample drawings of dragons that Taemin had made to find the type of dragon that would be most suited for this job. And after a little less than three hour they were already leaving the studio, Zitao’s hand burning from Taemin’s handshake.

Almost two weeks after, Taemin contacted Zitao through Email, saying that he was done with the artwork and wanted him to come over to start on the outlines. He gave Zitao two different versions and asked him to give his feedback so he could change what he didn’t like. After a few more mails with changes, they got it to a final version. Oblivious to the fact that Zitao would be coming from China Taemin then offered him a session the very next day and as Zitao wanted to get it done as soon as possible before his busy schedules restarted, he messaged his manager right away to get the jet ready.

The problem this time was, that Louyu couldn’t come along, which left Zitao alone, without any Korean skills in the hands of a Korean tattoo artist. He downloaded a translator app and looked up some of the most important Korean words that could come up in tomorrow’s session, writing them on a piece of paper during the flight back to Seoul.

The greetings the next morning were awkward. Zitao mumbled a hesitant “Hello” in Korean and Taemin bowed, copying what the Chinese male said, just without the Chinese accent while a smile played around his lips.

Zitao got rid of his shoes and entered the studio, still appreciating the beauty of it. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the printed artwork on the desk. Taemin saw the way, Zitao looked at his work and immediately felt his heart flutter. The way the Chinese man looked at his drawing was the most intriguing thing he had ever seen.

The taller walked closer, looking at the paper with the beautiful artwork on it. It was exactly what he had imagined. Of course, he had seen it on his screen before, but seeing it here, right in front of his eyes was incredible. He didn’t even realize how much time passed when Taemin suddenly walked next to him and gave him a questioning look.

“OK?” He asked signing it with his hand at the same time and Zitao put both of his thumbs up.

He had looked up how to say: “I love it” in Korean. But when he proudly said it out loud, the tattoo artist raised an eyebrow and could not hold in a giggle when Zitao said “I love you” with the most serious face. Somehow, with hands and feet, he tried to tell the taller male that what he said was the Korean equivalent to “Wo Ai Ni”.

Zitao’s eyes got bigger and he bowed instantly, apologizing for his lacking Korean skills. But all he got from the tattoo artist was a warm smile and a ‘forget about it’ hand gesture.

“Go?” Taemin said in English, hoping Zitao would understand the meaning of it. The taller did understand and walked over to the seat, taking his shirt off and making himself comfortable while Taemin got everything he needed to get Zitao ready for the session.

After shaving and sanitising the toned arm completely, he put the cold substance that was needed to get the outlines to stay on, all over the freshly shaved skin, rubbing it in slightly. Then he grabbed the first strap of paper gently placing it on Zitao’s arm. After pressing it down for a few seconds he removed the paper slowly to see if the blue lines had transferred onto the skin properly, which they did.

After applying the outlines one by one, Taemin brought a mirror over to let Zitao look at how the artwork will look like when it was finished.

“사랑해요” Zitao said in Korean again, this time with a smile on his face, knowing what it really meant, making Taemin laugh. The tattoo artist put up both thumbs and Zitao nodded. This was great. It was exactly what he had imagined it to be like. He smiled at the tattoo artist and then sat back down onto the chair, which looked like a chair you can find in a hospital, while Taemin got to work, collecting everything he needed.

The tattoo artist himself was, like Zitao, covered with beautiful artwork. Most of the skin the Chinese male saw was inked. Because of the loose shirt, he was able to see most of the moon which was about the size of a big hand and covered the upper part of Taemin’s chest, ending at the base of his neck. On both of his arms were small objects, scattered around without really belonging to each other. There were bigger tattoos of birds or plants, and all around them smaller ones with everyday objects, including a Soju bottle much to Zitao’s amusement. Here and there was lettering, most of them in Korean and English and somewhere between them the taller male was able to make out the Chinese character for balance.

Zitao watched the graceful male closely while he was getting everything ready, impressed by the amount of different art on his body. Unlike Zitao’s, none of the tattoo’s seemed to be made by the same artist. The styles were so different and unique. It must have taken ages to collect all of them. The tall male’s thoughts were disturbed when Taemin sat down on the little stool which was on the other side of a small table and put on white gloves, covering his inked hands. After he turned on the bright lamp and opened the little colour container, he took the machine into his hand.

“OK?” The artist said, hoping Zitao would understand. The latter did, nodded and Taemin started his work. He took Tao’s hand into his own, making the arm rest on the armrest on his side. The small but high, table-like rest was covered in sterile paper which ruffled when his heavy arm was placed on it.

Used to the procedure, Zitao laid back and closed his eyes, making himself comfortable on the chair. After all, he would be in that position for a while. With the familiar buzzing of the tattoo machine came the just as familiar sting of needles poking into his skin. Neither of them spoke during the process, Taemin focused on his work and Zitao getting completely absorbed in the sensation of the artist’s hands working on his naked skin.

For no particular reason, getting tattoos was relaxing to him. He liked the feeling even if it was painful at times. In the end there was a new piece of art on his body. And this time it was even more amazing. He was finally getting the tattoo he had been wanting to get for years.

When the machine stopped buzzing, Zitao opened his eyes to see Taemin gesturing him to stand up and pointed at the tattoo table. The taller got up from the chair, and walked over, trying his best not to look in the mirror. He wanted to wait with looking at it. He knew from experience, that looking at the artwork before the blue lines were washed off, is not a clever idea.

Lying down on his chest, He used the arm already covered in artwork as a pillow while placing the one in progress next to his naked torso. Soon, Taemin’s gentle hands were back at work, pulling the skin, needles moving in and out, wiping off the excess colour whenever needed with a paper towel.

After about two hours, they took a longer break, Taemin making coffee, offering it to the Chinese male who gladly accepted. Not surprisingly, his left arm was on fire – and they were only about half-way done. Usually, Zitao got his tattoos in smaller patches, but he did not really have a choice as he couldn’t come over to Korea that many times with his schedules starting again soon. And having an unfinished tattoo on his arm for those, was definitely not something he wanted.

He left the arm on the armrest by the chair, paying attention to not touch it while the wounds were still so fresh, while he held his right hand out to take the coffee from Taemin’s hands.

When he grabbed the mug, his own inked hand brushed Taemin’s and their eyes met.

For a second, neither of them moved. How beautiful and deep Taemin’s eyes were, was all Zitao could think about. He couldn’t get enough of them. The smaller seemed to feel the same, because neither of them broke the eye contact for several seconds, and Zitao could swear that he felt electricity shooting back and forth. In the end it was him who broke it, taking the mug properly, thanking the tattoo artist in Korean.

While they were drinking coffee, there was complete silence between the two, neither of them able to properly communicate in the other’s language. It wasn’t uncomfortable but Zitao wished they could talk to each other. Get to know each other but he had no idea how. That was until Taemin took out his phone, opening a translator device, entering a sentence in Korean to get the Chinese translation shortly after, trying to read it out loud. He gave up instantly, realizing that the bit of Chinese he had learned in high school was almost completely inexistent.

Zitao was laughing gently when Taemin tried to ask “How old are you” in Chinese. His accents were completely wrong, making the sentence have no actual meaning. He held out his hand to get the other’s phone. Reading it would be way easier he guessed. And was right.

He typed his answer into the phone, giving it back. Taemin’s face lit up, him beaming a beautiful smile back at Zitao who was ready to take back the phone with the other’s answer.

“I am born in 1993 as well. So, we are the same age!” Zitao was delighted . He didn’t expect the other to be the same age as he looked and acted older.

“I am taller though” He answered, smiling at the other male who rolled his eyes at the newest message. Their coffee was long forgotten and cold, so after taking a sip of the cold brew, Taemin suggested to keep going which was more than fine with the Chinese male. For some reason he couldn’t wait to have Taemin’s gentle hands back on his skin, marking him for life with the most beautiful art in the world.

He was lying on his back now, eyes closed as soon as the machine started buzzing again. What Zitao did not see, was Taemin’s hungry gaze on the other’s naked frame before he got back to work. For some reason, Taemin was fascinated by the Chinese male’s body. He was used to clients being over and over tattooed. Zitao was not special in any way. Not even the metal bar that went through the taller’s left nipple was something he hadn’t seen before.

Taemin did not know what it was, but to him the other looked completely stunning. His proportions just right, covered in beautiful art which seemed to be made all by the same artist as it fit together fascinatingly well.

After looking at Zitao’s body for a few seconds, he had to get to work before the taller would open his eyes and see the way he was looking at him.

A few short breaks and around four hours later, the outlines were done and Taemin washed away the excess ink including the blue lines. The black lines were surrounded by red skin, Zitao’s arm burning up in flames. It has been quite an intense session, both for Zitao and the artist, but with the first look in the mirror, all the pain was forgotten. In awe the tall male was turning his arm around to look at the beautiful lining that covered his left arm.

He had been used to having it naked, so seeing it covered in lines was strange but wonderful at the same time.

“사랑해요” He said in Korean again, making both of them laugh before Taemin corrected him, this time teaching him how to properly say that he loved IT and not HIM. After repeating the Korean phrase a few times, Zitao guessed that he would be able to remember, and thanked the smaller male, while his gaze was still focused on his appearance in the mirror.

The artwork wasn’t even nearly done, but it was already incredibly beautiful. Zitao could not wait to have it finished but there will be a lot more time that had to go into it. Looking at the gorgeous outlines he guessed that two more session would not suffice to finish it up. And Zitao didn’t mind at all.

While the taller was admiring his new tattoo, Taemin was cleaning up the working space. What he didn’t know was that he was being watched secretly through the mirror. Zitao couldn’t help but look at Taemin whom he was completely fascinated by – for no apparent reason it was hard to take his eyes of the gorgeous male.

When he was done cleaning up, Taemin took out his phone again, typing something.

“Three more sessions. When?” The Chinese characters said and Zitao took the phone from Taemin’s hand, brushing it softly.

“You choose” He typed in. Taemin nodded and took out his planner, looking through it. A few seconds after, he pointed at three days that were still completely empty, each about three weeks apart from one another. The dates seemed fine to Zitao and he held up a thumb.

With a piece of paper with the next session’s dates on it and a strange feeling in his chest, Zitao left the studio. His arm was covered in plastic wrap and was burning like crazy. It wasn’t only the stinging pain from the freshly inked skin, but also the incredible heat underneath the plastic. This was by far the biggest he had gone in one session.

On the plane back to China, he could hardly think about anything other than Taemin’s smile and his persona in general. When he watched the smaller clean up the work space, he could barely take his eyes off the other’s so gracefully moving body. In many ways, the tattoo artist fascinated him. Even though they were hardly capable of conversing with each other, he felt genuinely accepted in the other’s presence.

Maybe it was because Taemin did not know about him as an artist. The fact that he treated him like a normal person, a normal customer, was refreshing. It could also be that there was another reason for the comfortable chemistry between the two of them but Zitao couldn’t quite make sense of it.

The time until the next session was passing slowly and the tattoo artist occupied many of Zitao’s thoughts while he was taking his time to live a lazy life, looking forward to the next appointment. It was unusual to him to be genuinely excited about something and even if he told himself that he felt this way because he would get his long-wished-for tattoo a bit closer to completion, even Louyu could see that this wasn’t quite the reason.

A week later, Zitao’s schedules started again slowly, not leaving much time to think about the Korean male. He spent a lot of time in the studio working on a new song which slowly started to sound like one. Even though his mind was occupied with different things, every time he stole a glance of the new outlines on his right arm, random thoughts filled his head.

How was Taemin doing? What if Zitao could talk to him? They were already laughing together now, how would it be if they actually understood each other?

Or, was he just missing the times when he could just meet new people without them knowing about his career? In Korea this somehow seemed to be possible. He got stared at in Seoul as well, but over there it was only because of his appearance and not because he had made himself a name in the society. 

When the time of the next session finally came, he took Louyu with him, to make conversing with the tattoo artist easier again. But luck was not on their side as the weather was rough and the jet could not leave the airport until early morning of the session-day. The two Chinese men almost ran through the airport to catch a cab which took them to the studio as fast as possible. They were already one hour late, and traffic did not make it any better.

Zitao had sent Taemin an Email, saying that they would be late due to the weather conditions. So, when the two Chinese men arrived at the familiar building, Taemin was working on a new design, an illustration of a wave, when they knocked on the open door.

“We are sorry for being late, the weather was awful, and our plane could not start, so we came here directly from the airport.” Louyu said in Korean, making Taemin’s eyes widen.

“What do you mean plane? Where did you come from?” He asked

“From Bejing.”

“You were in Bejing?!?!” Taemin shouted in surprise and Zitao wondered what the conversation was about, only hearing ‘Bejing’.

“Ah yes we live in Bejing. Did Tao not tell you?” Louyu said, translating to Zitao shortly so he would be able to follow at least slightly. “He is surprised that we came by plane when I explained him that we arrived late because of the weather in Bejing.” Zitao nodded, giving the sign to continue.

“Oh well…” Taemin started “I guessed that you would be Chinese but for some reason I thought you would be studying here or something.”

After Louyu translated it, Zitao shook his head. “Don’t tell him that we are only coming for him, that would be strange.” He begged his friend, but the latter had different plans.

“He doesn’t want me to tell you this, but as he doesn’t understand, I’ll say it anyway.” Louyu said, pretending to give Taemin another reason why they would be here to make this whole thing seem more casual than it actually was.

“Pretend I am just giving you some sort of excuse for our Korea visit, but actually he has been wanting to get a tattoo from you for ages, so basically, we fly over every time – simply because he is too stubborn to get his arm done by his usual artist.”

Taemin tried his best to supress his emotions, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to know this. So, he just nodded, eyes slightly bigger than normal but Zitao didn’t seem to notice.

After the tattoo artist had checked the healing process of the outlines. He looked content with the stage they were in and complimented Zitao through Louyu of taking care of them well.

“One would think, by now I would know how to treat fresh tattoos” He mumbled, glad Taemin would not understand what he said and managed to stop Louyu from translating “Wait, don’t translate that”.

While the tattoo artist was preparing everything, the two Chinese men were admiring the sketches which were scattered across the desk. Zitao was as fascinated as always. But seeing Taemin’s work in real life and not only on the small screen of his phone.

Time was going fast, and what felt only like seconds later, Taemin’s voice made them lift their heads.

“So, let’s start. I am ready. And since I don’t want you coming here two more times, I’ll try to do a longer session today. Getting as much as possible done. You are crazy enough to be flying over for these sessions.”

“What did he say?” Zitao asked when his friend didn’t translate.

“Oh, Uhm just that he would like to get started. Plus, he will hold a pretty long session today, so you should prepare yourself.”

Even more than the last one, this session was tiring. For all of them, especially Taemin. As shading is much more painful due to the multiple needles used, Zitao also needed breaks from time to time. Breaks Taemin was just as happy to have. It was exhausting having his eyes concentrate on the moving needles and the lines in Zitao’s skin, while always looking at the reference picture which was placed right beside the Chinese male’s arm.

Louyu left several times, getting street food or coffee for all of them, spending the rest of the time on his phone on the couch close to the door.

There were barely any words spoken while Taemin was working, only the buzzing of the machine to be heard. Throughout the entire process, Zitao was watching the tattoo artist’s beautiful face while the latter was focused on the unfinished artwork on his arm. The way Taemin’s eyes narrowed when he was working on a small detail, the way the corner of his mouth twitched when he was wiping away the excess colour revealing the artwork underneath. Not to speak of the way the tattoo artist used his wrist to brush his black hair out of his face, trying not to touch it with his black gloves. 

Hours passed like that, and Zitao did not get tired of watching the Korean male for even a single second. The pain was bearable only because it was the beautiful male being the one inflicting it. It was a strange feeling, the piercing needles in combination with Taemin’s gentle hands.

He might have imagined it, but it felt as if every time Zitao’s breathing got faster due to the pain, Taemin’s hands applied soft pressure to the muscles underneath, making them relax. The touch of his fingers was soft, brushing along the healed lines with the movement of the machine.

After a longer dinner break, they decided to go for several more hours before finishing the session. By now, Zitao’s arm was numb for the most part so it was fine with him. Taemin on the other hand looked worn out. His eyes were watery and Zitao wondered why he had offered to keep going. But he was unable to understand anything his friend said to the tattoo artist and the other way around, so had to depend on Louyu and trust him that he wouldn’t pressure Taemin into things he wasn’t comfortable with. He did not like the helpless situation he was in one single bit.

If he was honest with himself, he envied his friend. He wanted to be the one talking to Taemin. He wanted to understand what they were talking about. After all it was him who had been the tattoo artist’s work’s admirer for more than three years now, not Louyu.

But in the end, he did not speak any Korean which left him entirely dependent on his friend, so who was he to despise the other’s presence. He did though. He would give everything to be alone with Taemin. The Korean man calmed him down. His whole life was so hectic and there was something about the other that brought him down from his intense existence, making him appreciate each moment he spent with the tattoo artist.

While Taemin and Louyu were talking, Zitao kept his arm on the armrest, munching ddeokbokki with his free hand while watching the other two.

Both of them were laughing from time to time and all Zitao could hope for was for Louyu to make the Korean man laugh more. Taemin’s laugh was beautiful. He had seen it before when he had mispronounced “I love it” as “I love you”. But this laugh was different. Zitao could not quite put a hand on it but there was a completely different feel to Taemin laughter now.

He couldn’t help but wishing Louyu to be gone while he, at the same time, was incredibly thankful for keeping the tattoo artist’s company. Something he wouldn’t be able to do. It was the sad truth, but his friend had probably gotten as close to Taemin as he had, already after this one session.

Sometimes, Louyu would touch Taemin’s leg and they seemed to be sitting closer to each other than in the beginning. The longer Zitao was watching the other two interact, the more his chest swelled. Why was he getting angry? There was no reason for him to feel like that, but all he wanted was for his friend to be gone. And before he could stop the words from coming out, he had already spoken.

“Louyu can you leave?”

Surprised at the suddenness of Zitao’s comment, both looked over, Louyu familiar with the look on Zitao’s face, while Taemin was confused by the other’s glare.

“I thought you would never ask, you are making me use all of my acting skills here. Don’t think I did not see how you look at him.”

And after excusing himself to Taemin and taking his things, he left a baffled Zitao who didn’t get the chance to defend himself, saying he wasn’t eyeing the Korean male, that he did not want to do anything at all – and what was Louyu even talking about?

As soon as the other Chinese male was out of the room a comfortable silence set over the two remaining men.

“Shall we continue?” Zitao said with a gesture towards the tattoo table, forgetting that Taemin doesn’t speak Chinese. To his surprise, Taemin answered him in Chinese, saying yes while putting the water he held in his hand aside.

The Chinese male was confused and Taemin just smiled, pointing over at the table. So, the gesture gave it off?

Soon, Taemin’s soft touch was back on his arm and the machine was buzzing again. The Korean man kept working for almost three more hours before he cleaned off all the excess colour gently and Zitao was told the session was over by a simple, tired look the tattoo artist gave him.

While Zitao admired the artwork on his upper arm, which was almost completely done, in the mirror, Taemin got plastic wrap to cover the fresh tattoo with. It was almost midnight and both of them were exhausted. Nevertheless, Taemin took his sweet time wrapping the plastic wrap around Zitao’s toned, freshly inked arm.

They said goodbye by locking eyes after bowing to each other. It was Zitao who looked away first turning away his head just slightly while gazing at the floor. Why was he getting shy?

“See you next time.” He muttered in Chinese under his breath before leaving the studio, not noticing how Taemin watched him walking down the stairs with a confused gaze.

The next day, on their flight back to China. Zitao had to listen to Louyu complaining about the fact that he had given him such a good opportunity to make a move on the tattoo artist and Zitao didn’t do shit.

“Tell me please, what was I supposed to do?!?”

“Oh gosh, are you really that stupid to not feel the tension between the two of you? I felt that sexual tension through my bones. The hell did you do to that guy last time when you were alone?”

“What are you talking about, I didn’t do anything.”

“Well you have one more chance to make your move. If you ask me, Taemin has taken an interest in you as well, so why not release all those needs you keep inside just because you feel like everyone wants you for your money.” Louyu shrugged his shoulders.

“What is the difference here please? It will still be a one-night stand.”

“But one where the other person is attracted to your appearance and you as a person rather than your full bank account. I saw him looking at your body every now and then, as if he were undressing you with his eyes; and the best thing: you didn’t even have to talk for him to be interested, I would call that jackpot.”

When the next and last session came up, Zitao was feeling uneasy already days before. He couldn’t properly concentrate on the lyrics he was working on and his minds drifted back to the Korean tattoo artist every few minutes, wondering how he would be able to face the other, knowing now that the interest was mutual.

If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t felt particularly attracted to anyone in quite a while, but when thinking about Taemin, his blood started to rush through his veins faster, telling him, that – maybe – he was deeper in this than originally planned.

Despite how many times Zitao tried, Louyu had refused to accompany him to Korea this time. With the words “I surely don’t have any desire to be there when you get at it” he left Zitao speechless and defeated.

As he was sitting in the now familiar studio on the usual chair early in the morning, Zitao payed closer attention to the touch of Taemin’s hands, that caressed his skin a little to sensually for it to still be professional. He also noticed the other’s face being too close to his own when he took some distance to look at his creation from afar.

The breaks were a combination of comfortable silence while they were walking outside to get food, only gestures used to ask about simple things like preferences in food, and interesting conversations over the translation device as they sat in the studio.

It turned out that Taemin actually had some interest in dancing and hadn’t talked to his parents in several years as they didn’t approve of his job nor his hobbies. Zitao tried to avoid the topic of his profession as well as he could because he didn’t want to lie to the other. He did tell him though, that he was interested in music, but made it sound like it was a casual thing, something he did in his free time.

Next to the short conversations about their private lives, they really hit off when talking about their passion for body modification. Sharing their experiences with each other, talking about reactions and preconceptions in Asian countries in general. Taemin also turned out to be, what he calls “a collector of tattoos” and was able to tell many great stories about the artwork that covered his body.

As enjoyable as their talks were, they usually had to cut them short, the reason being that, for some reason, Taemin wanted to finish up the full sleeve today. There was still half of the forearm left and it was already past 6pm. For many more hours they worked through it together, unable to exchange any thoughts through the buzzing of the machine.

It was getting really late when Taemin was adding some final touches to certain places, pulling the skin to see if everything was evenly done. The touch of the professional’s fingertips still sent goose bumps all over Zitao’s body.

It made him think. After today, he had no reason to see the Korean male ever again. His tattoo was completed, and his busy schedules would be starting again soon. He realized that this would be the last possible moment for any kind of interaction between them.

Taemin was taking his time, cleaning the excess ink off the taller’s arm gently. Several times during that process, Zitao caught Taemin looking at him, and whenever their eyes met, the Chinese felt a short beam of electricity going through his body and he kept staring at the other, waiting for him to meet his eyes again.

Soon enough, Taemin had properly finished up, covering the freshly inked arm in plastic wrapping and then gestured the taller to get up from the seat. When Tao did as he was told, he found himself pressed against the bright wall of the tattoo studio in a matter of seconds.

Taemin had shoved him against it, holding onto his naked shoulder while staring up into his dark eyes. The tattoo artist then mumbled something in Korean that Zitao couldn’t understand – and before he could wonder what it could have meant, the smaller’s full lips were on his, quickly deepening the kiss. Following Taemin’s lead, Zitao opened his mouth and let the other’s tongue explore his hot cavern.

Both were panting in a matter of minutes, the kiss getting sloppier while Zitao pulled Taemin’s shirt over his head, ravishing the tattoo artist’s upper body with his hands. To his surprise he found two metal bars that went through Taemin’s nipples while he was trying to reach every inch of the Korean male’s skin. At the same time, the latter’s hands were cupping the Chinese male’s ass hard, massaging the round globes, sometimes landing a slap on the rough fabric of the other’s jeans.

“MHHHHH” Zitao moaned when Taemin’s fingers were pressing on his crack. As he was still wearing his pants, the sensation of the other’s fingers, trying to get to his ass was incredibly frustrating and erotic at the same time. He then immediately removed his hands from Taemin’s pierced nipples and got rid of his pants for good.

They separated for a few seconds, both throwing their pants somewhere, only to then reconnect their now almost naked bodies, pressing hot skin against hot skin.

“아아아… 좋아요” Taemin moaned and Zitao only barely recognised it as a phrase he had learned to tell the tattoo artist that he liked his work – and therefore figured he was doing everything right. He ran his fingers up and down the artist’s tattooed back. If he hadn’t been this turned on, he would have loved to ravish and inspect all of the Korean male’s tattoos. But he barely got the chance, as Taemin’s mouth started sucking on his collarbone. The skin was covered in black, so they didn’t have to worry about leaving marks anyways. And even if it would have been visible, Zitao was not so sure if he would have cared.

The taller felt Taemin’s dick wake, pressing against his own while the Korean was busy leaving invisible marks all over Zitao’s tattooed neck. He tried to shift under the tattoo artist’s continuous kisses, but the other had him completely under control, he was barely able to move as the other’s hands were pressing him against the wall with more force than he had expected him to have.

Zitao’s hands instantly found the other’s upper arms, feeling the tight muscles that were almost completely covered in artwork.

“You are so hot.” He whispered in Chinese, even though Taemin wouldn’t understand. For a few more minutes, they ravished each other’s skin, enjoying the warmth their bodies radiated. While their hands were busy, their lips met in irregular kisses, parted ways again for Taemin to lick up and down Zitao’s neck before they re-joined in heated passion. In the few moments that the rapper’s lips were unoccupied, he kept repeating the same words in Chinese like a mantra.

“You are so hot.”

His arm was just as hot. The skin burned almost painfully because of the long session and the heat underneath the plastic wrap. But somehow it turned him on even more. The stinging sensation whenever Taemin brushed past it by accident was almost arousing. All of this was getting way out of hand, Zitao noticed as they slid down along the wall slowly until he was seated on the floor, his naked back pressed on the wall while Taemin wouldn’t stop playing with his nipples before returning to ravishing his mouth.

At one point, Zitao just knew that they would go further. It wouldn’t be just making out on the cold floor of a tattoo studio. Softly, he pushed the Korean male off him, confusing the latter for a while before he started signing his question.

He did his best to describe a condom without words, using his hands to demonstrate, while mimicking that it was a question by pulling up his eyebrows. Taemin seemed to understand, nodded and stood up to get one. Before he was gone though, Zitao said:

“Wait!” In Chinese, making the other stop in his tracks. With another hand movement, he tried to sign a bottle squirting on his hands – asking for lube. Taemin instantly nodded and held up a thumb, showing that he understood.

He was back only few moments later, throwing a pack of condoms as well as lube at the sitting male before walking over to the tattoo table. There was a thin matrass stored behind it. He grabbed it and put it on the floor right next to where Zitao was sitting.

The latter followed the invitation and got right up on it. There was one more thing they had to take care off and just a second before the Chinese male would have asked, Taemin raised his eyebrows in question while using one hand to point down and one hand to point upwards.

Who was going to top? Quite honestly, Zitao did not care. The people he usually slept with always had this fantasy of Z.Tao being manly and dominant, a concept fuelled by his image as a rapper, but he enjoyed bottoming just as much and didn’t see it as a degradation of his masculinity. As an answer he just shrugged his shoulders, giving the tattoo artist the choice.

The latter pointed at himself and Zitao answered the unspoken question with a nod. Then, while squinting his eyes in uncertainty, Taemin pointed upwards, asking if it was alright if he topped. Zitao was looking forward to this even more now. He wouldn’t have to do much of the work. What if he had topped but Taemin wouldn’t have been satisfied – he couldn’t have even explained himself or apologized for wasting his time.

All it needed for them to get at it again was a small nod from Zitao; just a second after, Taemin had taken off his boxers while the Chinese male was doing the same. The last piece of clothing was thrown aside, neither of them caring where they landed.

Now, both were completely naked and Zitao couldn’t help but register the amused look on the tattooist’s face when his eyes set on his Prince Albert. A small chuckle escaped Taemin’s chest as he took his own penis in his hand and shifted the foreskin just enough for Zitao to make out a hole right under the crown.

It was such an uplifting and beautiful situation they found themselves in when the Chinese male looked up into Taemin’s eyes after realising that the latter had the exact same piercing as he did, just that he wasn’t wearing a ring today. It was so surreal: Zitao had never met another person who had gotten their dick pierced. And he got even more excited now that he actually found someone who did, only too bad he wasn’t wearing it. They were smiling at each other for a few seconds before Taemin moved forward and grabbed Zitao’s manhood.

Unlike other people who usually avoided doing anything that included the piercing, afraid to hurt the rapper, Taemin went right for it. It was obvious that he himself had one as he knew exactly how to move it around to create a sort of pleasure that was hard to imagine. With gentle hands, he rolled the excess skin over the silver metal, moving the piercing with the skin.

Zitao couldn’t hold back a moan and with his last bit of brain function he repeated what the tattoo artist had said before, not caring if he butchered the pronunciation.

“좋아요~~”

The short phrase made Taemin’s eyes shoot up to Zitao’s face, his expression hard to interpret. Was he surprised? Impressed? Turned on? It didn’t matter because only seconds later, the tattooist was all over him again.

Preparing Zitao was something that, for his liking, took way too long. Taemin took his time to first clean out his anus while wearing plastic gloves he got from his supply cupboard and then stretched him open gently using his tired fingers in the best way.

Both spoke short phrases in their language, and it didn’t matter that neither of them understood what the other said. Just hearing the other’s voice was enough to feel comfortable and appreciated.

Before putting on the condom, Taemin removed the gloves, throwing them in a bin nearby and Zitao shook slightly. It was really happening.

Zitao was pretty sure he had never felt as good as he was feeling that moment. Taemin knew how to work his manhood, thrusting in and out of his well-prepared hole while using his inked hands to massage the Chinese man’s penis, paying extra attention to the pierced crown. Their heavy breathing mixed with skin slapping against skin, wet sounds coming from Zitao’s hole and moans which escaped from both their throats.

After a while Taemin’s thrusts got slower and his lips pressed against Zitao’s, involving the Chinese male in a soft kiss. The whole situation shifted completely, from intense passionate to slow and sensual. The tattoo artist’s arms were placed onto the matrass, next to Zitao’s face, while his mouth kept pecking the taller’s thin, slightly chapped lips – his hips never stopping their movement.

Meanwhile Zitao’s hand was roaming Taemin’s back and side, the other one always playing with the other’s soft hair, sometimes caressing his neck.

It was obvious when the Korean male was approaching his orgasm. The sensual slow thrusts sped up to an almost animalistic pace and the kiss was interrupted as his whole body flexed in pleasure, throwing his head back

Just shortly after, he reached his orgasm, shooting his seed inside the condom. Taemin pulled his member out shortly, right after he caught his breath, holding onto the base of the condom to keep it from sliding off. It was discarded only seconds later, and the tattoo artist helped Zitao come by rubbing the latter’s hot manhood in almost impossible speed, adding lube from time to time to smoothen his stokes.

Zitao couldn’t help but speak Chinese profanities while his whole body tensed, his back aching in pleasure right before he reached his climax and ejaculated into the tattoo artist’s hands.

No more words were spoken while the taller regained his breath. In the meantime, Taemin got up to get tissues, and started cleaning himself and Zitao as soon as he was back on the matrass.

“감시합니다“ Zitao said, ‘thank you’, being one of the very few phrases he could say in Korean. The tattooist answered something that he didn’t understand but interpreted as a “you are welcome”.

Realisation hit him a moment after: it was over. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wanted to stay here. This instant, there was nothing he really looked forward to in Bejing. When he was back, he knew that he would have things he loved doing going on, but right now he didn’t want to leave.

Neither of them said anything, knowing it would be no use. So, they just stared at each other before Zitao decided to make a move. He laid back down holding his right arm out so Taemin had enough space to lay down next to him. A small smile formed on the latter’s lips as he took the invitation, placing his head on the stretched-out arm, his face facing Zitao’s.

Silently, they looked at each other, the Chinese male petting Taemin’s head with his right hand, enjoying the softness of the black hair. The smaller’s hand moved up to Zitao’s face in the meantime, caressing the smooth skin before using his thumb to touch his small lips. It strangely felt way more intimate than when they were having sex earlier. There was no awkward conversation as Zitao knew them, and therefore the whole atmosphere was comfortable, neither of them feeling the need to leave the place.

A few minutes in, Taemin’s gaze left Zitao’s face, his hand following the lines of his neck tattoo, enjoying how the lines were put together. The taller’s body shuddered when the warm hand touched his most sensitive spots right over his collar bones.

All Zitao wanted to do now was hold the smaller male in his arms, enjoying the closeness. But how would he explain this to his manager who was waiting at the airport as he was supposed to get back there before 10pm. With a short look to the clock on the wall, he saw that it was already half past 12. Of course, Taemin noticed the changes in the Chinese male’s face, holding himself up with his arm, making it possible for Zitao to pull away.

No questions were asked as the taller’s naked frame walked over to his bag to grab his phone. While Taemin propped himself up on his elbow, watching Zitao closely, the latter dialled his manager’s number.

“I won’t be going home tonight. You can get yourself a hotel room. I’ll pay for it.” Zitao said and then listened to his manager shout at him for messaging him so late. He demanded reasons but the rapper stalled, this felt too personal to share with pretty much anyone. About five minutes later he was able to calm the other down and ended the call with a sigh.

He turned back around, only to see the tattoo artist watching him with interested eyes, his inked body beautifully on display. Knowing he would have to explain himself, he brought his phone with him, opening the translator app on the way.

“I cancelled my flight for tonight.” The message read and Taemin raised an eyebrow, reaching for the phone.

“You didn’t plan on staying the night in Seoul?”

“No…”

“Will you have a flight tomorrow?”

“Yes. I am sure I can find a seat.”

“You don’t have a place to stay then?”

“Not really. I want to stay with you.” There was a short moment in which Zitao wasn’t sure if he was overstepping boundaries but just a second after, Taemin’s worried expression changed to a softer one, eyes lighting up.

“I have blankets in the back room” Taemin typed in Korean and had it translated. Zitao didn’t even realize as a smile spread over his face. This couldn’t get any better.

A few minutes passed while Taemin got the blankets and turned off the lights, only leaving a small lamp still on so he could see where he was going. Neither of them bothered to put on clothes and soon enough they lay side by side on the thin matrass covered by a blanket, completely naked, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the other’s body.

From time to time, Taemin would stretch to capture Zitao’s lips in a short kiss before returning to his previous position. His head was set on the Chinese male’s broad chest, listening to the other’s heartbeat always making sure not to put too much pressure on the freshly inked arm.

Zitao knew that this moment was fleeting. Tomorrow he would be back in China, not seeing the Korean male for a long time. He couldn’t help but want to remember this feeling, this feeling of acceptance, this feeling of security - and before he could think about it properly, he had already taken his phone into his left hand, holding out his freshly tattooed arm to take a picture of the two of them, Taemin hugging his torso with closed eyes.

As soon as the sound of the camera filled the room, the smaller jerked up, watching how Zitao hid the phone instantly. A hand was placed onto Zitao’s stomach as Taemin sat up to reach for the phone. Knowing he shouldn’t have taken a picture without asking, he finally gave in, handing over the phone.

But instead of deleting the picture, Taemin looked at it, smirked and opened Zitao’s E-Mail to send the picture to his own address.

“XieXie” he said, making Zitao smile once more.

It took over an hour for them to fall asleep in each other’s arms, neither of them wanting the moment to end.

The morning was dreadful. They didn’t exchange many sentences through the translator. Neither of them knowing what to say, except for “Yesterday was nice.” “I really love the tattoo.” and “get home safely.”

Zitao helped folding the blankets, used the toilet and put on his clothes without looking at the other male. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to leave otherwise. And when the time to leave finally came, they didn’t know how to say goodbye.

They just stood there near the door, looking at each other. Zitao didn’t know if he should hug the other, maybe kiss him? Just shaking hands wouldn’t be appropriate either after last night. Bowing was too formal. In the end it was Taemin who came closer, hugging the taller for a second too long for it to be casual, his hand too far down for it to be innocent and for one last time, Zitao buried his nose in the smaller’s hair, inhaling Taemin’s wooden scent.

His head hung low, Zitao walked out of the building before calling over a taxi to get to the airport where his manager was already impatiently waiting.

The tattoo was healing well, and it looked absolutely gorgeous. But whenever Zitao looked at it, his heart clenched tightly. It was a strange feeling to see it healing. So many feelings were connected to this tattoo that it felt familiar and foreign at the same time.

While working in the studio he would always find himself completely involved in the gorgeous artwork on his left arm. Taemin was indeed a master in his craft and it was getting more and more obvious as the swelling went down. A few weeks after he returned to Bejing for good, he uploaded a picture of himself showing off his new sleeve on his Weibo, provoking a huge discussion about who had inked Z.Tao’s left arm.

For the entirety of those first two weeks, Zitao wrote drafts after drafts of an email to Taemin while looking at the picture they took together, but he couldn’t bring himself to send any of them. Because there were so many things he wanted to say, he had no idea what to say and as the time went on it got more and more awkward to send a message. He had hoped that Taemin would make the first step and message him, but there was none in the first two weeks. The possibility to get an email from the Korean male was taken from him shortly after when his email address was leaked all over the internet and he had a huge number of messages from fans reaching him every single day. In the end it only left him with the option of deactivating the account.

Even if he still had his email address, what would the tattoo artist think if he just got a message out of the blue over three weeks later? Obviously, he wasn’t interested in staying in contact as during those first few weeks he never sent a mail, so being the obsessive one who sends an email ages after the night they spent together was embarrassing.

Zitao worried about it a lot while working at the studio, recording the new songs but those worries were pushed to the back of his head as soon as the album was released, and he jetted around the whole country to give concerts. Being on tour was tiring but Zitao loved it. All the hardships of sleeping in a different place each night and being around his staff constantly paled as soon as he stood on stage. His life went on. And even if he often thought about Taemin, he accepted the fact that it had been a one-night-stand. One of many.

Other than his constant thoughts about the Korean tattoo artist, one thing that didn’t die down the three months he spent on tour, was the discussion online. His fans were still wondering what the reason for him had been to finally fill his left arm. There were many speculations of who the artist was: Some said it was his usual artist that changed up the style, they found one Chinese artist with a similar style to that Taemin used and a few more that Zitao wasn’t quite sure why they were even considered.

It was amusing to see his fanbase completely baffled, not even considering to look for oversea-artists. Time passed and at some point, Zitao stopped looking at the picture he had taken of Taemin and him. His life went on and there was no use in thinking about the Korean male each day. He would always treasure the memory of the night they spent together, it being basically engraved into his left arm was making it impossible to forget.

A/N

Thanks so much for reading. I know it's not anything many people will like/even start to read. so if you got to this point I would love to hear from you in the comments.

>< I am quite afraid that this baby won't get any feedback at all... ><

Anywayyy, if you don't feel like commenting, that is fine as well. Hope you have a great day and thanks for coming around!

xx

R


	2. Part II - China

Part II - China

The offer had come as a complete surprise. Taemin still couldn’t quite grasp what had happened while sitting in the airplane to Bejing. Around a month prior, he had gotten an Email from a Chinese tattoo studio that turned out to be one of the most popular in the capital. They hadn’t been very specific in their messages, only saying that they have seen his work and wanted to invite him over for some guest work. He was offered a good sum of money and a place to stay for those three months. Apparently one of the other tattooists there had done an exchange semester in Korea and was able to speak some Korean – which meant he wasn’t going to be completely lost.

Going to Bejing made him think about Zitao. He hadn’t heard from the Chinese male for almost a year and had given up waiting for a message. It seemed as if he had interpreted a little too much into their night. He had sent one Email to the one they exchanged work details with after mustering up courage for a few weeks, but never heard back from it. After that first mail that had needed a lot of willpower, he didn’t want to be the obsessive one messaging the other again. It did cross his mind though, to tell him that he would be visiting when he got invited to China- after all, Taemin recalled Louyu saying they were from Bejing.

He couldn’t bring himself to send another mail before he left, but talked about it with some of his friends - one of them even had decent advice. He told him that during the three months he was going to be there, he could message Zitao anytime if he felt like meeting up with him. This made sense and he decided against notifying the Chinese male prior to his arrival.

The moment the plane landed, Taemin was suddenly nervous. He had been to Japan before, but never China – one of the main reasons being his absolutely inexistent Chinese skills in comparison to his decent Japanese. As he was making his way through security, he prayed that the guys from the studio weren’t lying and the guy called Jiao-Long would be waiting for him. He would not be prepared to get around Bejing without someone who speaks just the slightest bit of Korean.

The sign with his name on it wasn’t actually needed as Taemin spotted Jiao-Long as soon as the door opened. The other male had a cross tattooed on the left side of his face and an insane number of piercings decorated his ears. The latter seemed to think the same thing, eyeing Taemin’s neck tattoo while he lowered the piece of paper.

After a short introduction, Jiao-Long guided him to his car, carrying the luggage without being asked. His Korean wasn’t very good, but they were able to have a very basic conversation on the way back to the city centre. Taemin got to know that the Chinese male was 32 and had studied psychology before getting into the tattoo business. While he was at university the opportunity of going to South Korea for a semester opened up and he took it.

Even though Jiao-Long apologised for his lacking Korean skills every few minutes, Taemin was nevertheless impressed that the older hadn’t forgotten most the vocabulary after not using his Korean for over 7 years.

The first week wasn’t busy, Jiao-Long had explained to him that they hadn’t taken any bookings for the first week so that Taemin could properly arrive and see some parts of the city. He wasn’t complaining, actually, he was happy to be given the opportunity to see a little of Bejing. He never got the chance to travel much, studying had taken up most of his teen years – studying that was irrelevant for the work he was doing now. And ever since he finished school and went to the army, he was doing his best to make a name for himself as a tattoo artist. It was exciting to take a week off completely and just do whatever he felt like doing.

Whenever Jiao-Long wasn’t working, the older showed him around the area, taking him out pretty much every night, introducing him to so many people – most of which’s names he couldn’t even remember a minute after he got to know them.

There was one cute guy Taemin ended up in a hotel room with, it was a short thing, going in, going out and that was pretty much it. Conversation was impossible and the guy didn’t seem to mind at all anyway. So Taemin left after the sex, going back to his place, that was located right above the tattoo studio where he would be starting to work in two days. He had yet to be introduced to the other artists as Jiao-Long didn’t find it necessary to talk about business before his time as a guest artist began.

The night before his first day, a workplace dinner was scheduled, and he found himself in midst of 7 tattoo artists in a restaurant near the studio.

“大家好我是 泰民“ Jiao-Long introduced the Korean male and the latter bowed to greet everyone. They were all sitting at a table in the restaurant that Jiao-Long had explained to be the place they always had their dinners whenever someone started working at the studio or if someone came over for some guest work.

The dinner was tiring for Taemin, he barely understood what people were saying and was completely dependant on Jiao-Long whose translations got worse with every drink he had. The only female artist at the table seemed to be a little too interested in getting to know him and it felt a little awkward to be trapped between all these people with only Jiao-Long as his way to communicate. When the other’s were slowly starting to leave, Taemin got up as well, looking forward to his own room, mostly to the silence in it.

“I don’t have asked you, but how you tattoo on Z.Tao?” Jiao-Long mumbled while he was walking Taemin back home, making the latter stop in his tracks.

“Zitao? How do you know Zitao?” he asked back in shock. He hadn’t been thinking about the Chinese male much since he arrived here, being constantly busy didn’t give him much time to worry about him. And the fact that Jiao-Long just brought up his name so randomly confused Taemin. The only logical explanation would be that Zitao was a regular at this tattoo studio and was the one telling them about his work.

Actually, everything started making sense now.

“OH I get it!” He shouted into the night air, pointing at the older male. “Was he the one telling you about me? I was so surprised how you knew about my work, I am not very well known after all, at least not internationally. Wow how did I not think of this?”

Jiao-Long looked at Taemin slightly confused.

“I don’t personally knowing him.”

“What do you mean? So, who of you did the rest of his tattoo’s then?” Taemin wondered.

“Oh no!” Jiao-Long’s eyes got bigger while he waved his hands dramatically. “We saw your tattoo of picture.” While he was speaking, he took out his phone and opened an app that Taemin wasn’t familiar with.

“Here, picture.” The older held out his phone for the Korean male to take it.

On the screen there was a picture of Zitao, Taemin recognised him immediately even though he looked quite different. He was styled very extravagantly, sitting in a music studio while showing off his left arm. The way he sat resonated confidence and the black eyeliner emphasized his intimidating aura even more. Never the less, it was the Zitao he had met in his studio roughly a year ago. The artwork on his left arm was proof enough.

Taemin couldn’t help but smile when he saw the artwork fully healed and in such great condition. He was too captivated by the picture and how good Zitao looked in it that he only looked at the post itself. It was captioned with something in Chinese he couldn’t understand and had over 1.3 Million likes.

1.3 Million likes. Taemin had to look twice. 1.3 MILLION LIKES. His eyes probably popped out of their sockets and he instantly grabbed the phone to see if what he was seeing was real. He didn’t understand a word that was written on the app. Just the number next to the heart symbol.

“WHAT.” He said, voice barely a whisper.

Jiao-Long watched the Korean male’s reaction with a confused expression.

“Why are you surprise?” he asked, pulling Taemin out of his moment.

“I… I just…” the younger started, still baffled and unable to properly form sentences. “How does this have so many likes? What the hell??”

“Of course has it many likes. Z.Tao is intense popular!”

“Popular how?” Taemin said, voice higher than normal as he still couldn’t quite grasp the situation.

“You really don’t know?”

“Do I look like I know?”

“No…” Jiao-Long admitted and kept walking until they arrived at the building Taemin lived in. “I can’t believe you not know his.” He mumbled. “You should search up him.”

“I will.” Taemin answered, unsure of what to make of the whole situation. Who was Zitao exactly?

Jiao-Long walked away after watching Taemin get inside safely, himself not even managing to walk in a straight line.

Taemin though, didn’t watch him walk away but rushed into the elevator to go to his floor and as soon as he had taken off the shoes and entered the one room apartment, he sat on the bed, taking out his phone almost immediately.

Zitao – he typed in.

There he was. The first picture that showed up was only his face and even if his hair was quite a bit longer and black, it was definitely the Zitao he had met a year ago.

Taemin was astonished with the complete change of perception he got, seeing the Chinese male in a completely new light. The next hours he spent looking up videos, songs and information about Zitao online instead of going to bed to be ready to start work tomorrow morning.

Turns out Zitao went by the name of Z.Tao and was originally an underground rapper that made it to nationwide fame through his unusual looks and his insane rapping skills. It was incredibly strange to see the person he spent such an intimate time with performing for thousands of people. It was strange to see him completely styled in music videos and it was even stranger to hear his usually throaty voice change completely when he sang a few lines in several of his songs.

Taemin didn’t sleep much that night. His mind kept going back to the days he spent with the apparently famous rapper and he couldn’t help but pull out his phone from time to time, looking at the picture of them.

He hadn’t looked at the picture much after he gave up hope that the Chinese male would message him – mostly to protect himself from falling for Zitao. Looking at it now was strange. The picture was way too intimate: Neither of them was wearing any clothes and even if their privates weren’t visible, their upper bodies were completely on display, tattoo’s matching each other well. Their hair was a mess, pointing to earlier activities. While Zitao was looking into the camera, his own face was buried in the taller’s neck, eyes closed as he enjoyed the other’s scent and warmth.

Unlike the pictures he found of Zitao in the internet, his face was completely bare, and his lips were pulled into a small and gentle smile.

Why did Zitao take this picture? He was surely aware that this picture was going to do damage to his career if it ever fell into the hands of the press, because after checking online, Taemin was pretty sure that Zitao’s sexual preference was not known to the public.

He fell asleep at some point, knowing that even if he contacted him, Zitao wouldn’t have time to meet him as he was currently on tour. It was sad but at the same time it took care of the decision for him.

The next morning, Jiao-Long was ringing his doorbell, telling him to get up. The day was filled with him being shown around in the studio and looking through booking requests of potential customers. The booking had been opened last night and there was already an incredible number of booking requests that came in. Taemin was overwhelmed to say the least, while Jiao-Long did his best translating the messages for him on the computer so he could work with the ideas of the customers.

Taemin spent the whole afternoon drawing sketches for at least 10 of the requests. Most of them weren’t too complicated and it didn’t take him too long to finish them up. Those sketches were then sent to the customers, together with a date and time. Apparently, he was popular enough to be giving out an exact time for the session and people would cancel their plans just to get a tattoo from him.

It was burdensome to some extent. Taemin wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, as he never quite made the jump to a famous tattoo artist in Korea for no apparent reason. Nevertheless he suddenly enjoyed the calmness of his own little studio and being able to take time for each and every tattoo he created.

During the first week he poked and designed at least 20 tattoos, being completely worn out by Saturday. They had closed the booking after just one day, not taking more because Taemin’s schedule would be filled enough as it was. He had to work overtime until deep into the night to get all the drawings done he needed for the next day and it also wasn’t helpful that he couldn’t talk to his customers.

Somehow, as nice as it was to have so many appointments, he felt disconnected from his work. Usually when he finished a tattoo it was very personal, and he would remember each and every single one of them. But here, by week two, he had already forgotten about at least half of the ones he made the previous week.

It was hard to forget about Zitao, mostly because every single person coming into the studio to get a tattoo done by him was asking how he was able to work with the Chinese rapper. His answer was always the same: “I didn’t find him, he found me.”

From time to time Taemin wondered if Zitao would like to be contacted or if he was to busy to even read his emails. He probably meant nothing to him. Taemin didn’t even want to think about the amount of one-night stands the latter probably has had throughout his career. He was just one of many.

Self-conscious as he was, he didn’t dare to message the taller about his time in Bejing. Little did he know that he didn’t have to tell him. Zitao already knew.

Zitao was in a hotel room surfing Weibo to look for pictures and posts from yesterday’s performance. He usually did it after each show to see what the fans had liked and what not. While searching his hashtag, a picture of a tattoo turned up. It was the logo of one of his albums but executed in a very familiar way. The rapper almost dropped his phone when he read the caption.

“Finally got a tattoo by Z.Tao’s new tattoo artist. He is so handsome.” It was followed by an almost unhealthy number of emoticons with heart eyes.

They found Taemin? How come he hadn’t heard about that yet?

Immediately after finding out that the cat was out of the bag, he checked if there were more people getting tattoos done by the Korean artist and it didn’t take long for him to find an announcement by one of the big studios in Bejing.

Apparently, they had found the mysterious artist that did his full left sleeve and brought him to Bejing for guest work. The picture that came with the announcement was a group picture of the staff in a restaurant. Taemin sitting in between all these other tattoo artists, looking into the camera in a slightly awkward manner as if he wasn’t used to being in photographs.

People underneath the post were going crazy but Zitao didn’t read through the comments much. He was too occupied with the photograph. Taemin looked the same. The same but ever so slightly different. His hair was quite a bit longer and styled out of his face, making his prominent forehead look incredibly attractive.

Strangely seeing the Korean male after such a long time, even if it was just a photograph, made his heart beat slightly faster than it usually did. Throughout the year there have always been moments when he had wanted to see Taemin again – even if it was just to tell him about his day. But he never let it get to him, knowing that it would be incredibly difficult to keep in touch with the Korean male. Not only because of the language barrier but also because of his job.

He remembered waiting for Taemin to message him first after he left. He had his email after all. A few days after he returned to China though, a lot more people got to know his email address. Someone had spread it online and he was getting overwhelmed by hundreds of messages from his fans. For a few weeks he looked through the mails once a day hoping that somehow a message from the Korean male was among them, but after a while it got too much and he couldn't help but close the account.

With a sigh he shook his head to get rid of those memories and closed the announcement post, now checking the tattoo studio’s page properly to see how long Taemin would be there - only to find out if it was possible to see the other while he was still in China.

Taemin would be there until December. Zitao had concerts scheduled in Bejing in December. It couldn’t be more perfect. Before, he had been looking forward to the end of the year because he was finally able to get to be back in his hometown, but now he was looking forward to it mostly because he would be seeing the Korean male again.

The concerts in November passed faster than he expected and he was able to wrap up everything nicely, returning to Bejing mid-December. From time to time he would see some of Taemin’s work in his hashtag and couldn’t help but look at each and every one of them for a few seconds before he kept scrolling through the other pictures without much interest.

His arrival in Bejing was a big thing as always, fans waiting at the airport. He wasn’t a mean person and he loved his fans, but he really hated being mobbed at the airport. Therefore, he barely looked up while two of his body guards were accompanying him to the car. Online, this habit of his hasn’t always been taken nicely but quite honestly, he didn’t care. They should let him breathe at least once in his life.

There were two more shows before he could take a few weeks off for the first time in quite a while – since his trips to Korea probably.

The first night in his loft high above the huge city, he was thinking about how to contact Taemin without seeming strange or needy. After all, Taemin hadn’t messaged him about being in China. Maybe he didn’t want to see him? By now he was surely aware of Zitao’s job - it was impossible to get around if all his fans were standing in line to get a tattoo from him. Maybe he was feeling burdened because of it? Did he read the bad comments about him? Did he even want to see him?

Many questions were flooding his mind as he sat on his huge grey sofa and looked out of the glass front, watching the lights of the city while drinking warm tea.

It was early in the morning when he drove his car to the tattoo studio. On the passenger seat, neatly placed, was an envelope with two tickets to his final show of the year which was in a pretty small club – the one he started performing at a few years ago. Tickets for that show were dealt at high prices online because it had been hard getting them in the first place. Zitao could have gotten him tickets for the first show. But in his desperate need to make the tattoo artist feel special he went for the more extravagant choice.

He had been to that tattoo studio before. Xiao had taken him there once because he had been acquainted with the one female artist that worked there. But this time he was alone, getting ready to get out of the car. He pulled up the hood of his hoodie to cover most of his tattoos and his hair, put on a black mask to cover the lower half of his face. It was still dark outside so it would be strange to wear sunglasses – it would attract attention more than it would hide his identity and the last thing he needed today was getting recognised.

It was 7:30am when he walked towards the building, seeing that there was already someone in the studio, seemingly getting everything ready for a long day. Luckily it wasn’t Taemin, Zitao wouldn’t have been ready to meet him. With one last deep breath he knocked at the glass door, surprising the worker who was currently checking the appointment book. The latter looked utterly confused at the early visitor but came to the door never the less.

“What do you want?” He asked, obviously still tired.

“I have a letter for Mr. Lee Taemin, I was told he works here.” Zitao said, shaking his hair into his face, covering most of his eyes.

“He does.” The tattooist answered with a sceptic look on his face.

“Could you give this to him then?” With his inked hands he held the envelope out for the artist to take.

“Wait.” The other eyed his hands intensively. “Wait.” His eyes got bigger. “Are you Z.Tao?!” The tattoo artist was instantly awake. His voice a little too loud for Zitao’s liking.

The latter didn’t answer and just pressed the envelope into the smaller male’s hands.

“Please make sure to give it to him.” He said in a firm voice, leaving no room for interpretation and before the other could react, he had turned around and walked to his car in a fast pace. From afar he thought he heard Taemin’s voice, which made him walk even faster. He was not ready to meet him, and he didn’t know if he ever would be.

Still half asleep, Taemin walked into the elevator to get to the tattoo studio on the ground floor. It was Taemin and Jiao-Long’s day of opening the store, something the Korean male absolutely hated. He wasn’t much of a morning person anyway, so getting up at 7am to clean and prepare the workspaces was nothing he wanted to get used to.

To his surprise, Jiao-Long was standing by the glass door, talking to a masked man that turned around to walk away the moment Taemin entered the studio.

“Who was that?” he said when Jiao-Long closed the door. He didn’t get an answer so Taemin walked over to the Chinese male.

“Good Morning Gege, who was that?” the younger asked once more, noticing the other male’s big eyes – Jiao-Long looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“I… I think I just met Z.Tao.” the latter mumbled, completely stunned.

“What?!?” Taemin said a little too loud, unable to hide his surprise that was mixed with excitement and before Jiao-Long could say anything, the Korean male was already out of the door, trying to catch up with the man he had wanted to see for over a year. Sadly, all he saw were the backlights of an expensive car driving away into the twilight as the sun was slowly going up.

When Taemin came back inside, the slight disappointment was obvious and of course, Jiao-Long would address it.

“How well do you know his?”

“Not well…” Taemin stalled, not wanting to explain their relations to anyone – not only for Zitao’s career’s sake, but also because that night was something he considered very private and precious.

“Then why come in person and give a letter for you?” He held out the envelope he received earlier and Taemin immediately took it out of the other’s hands.

Without hesitating, Taemin opened the envelope and took out a note and two pieces of paper that looked an awful lot like tickets to a concert.

“꼭 와줘 – Z ” Was written on the note in Korean. The writing looked as if Zitao drew the characters instead of writing them – which he probably did. He was telling him to make sure to come. But go where? The answer were the tickets that Jiao-Long took from him the second Taemin read the note.

“You got invitation to THAT concert?” Jiao-Long’s face was filled with many emotions, surprise, incredulity and confusion.

“I guess so…” Taemin answered, not quite knowing what the big deal was.

“This concert, not many people can go. The club can only take 600 people and tickets can only be winning, or on black market for expensive.”

Taemin didn’t quite know what to make of this situation. Why would Zitao invite him to a concert where only 600 people would be able to attend? Shouldn’t he rather give these two tickets to his actual fans? Why him? After not contacting him over the whole year, how did he know he was here? Why does he come by personally to invite him to a concert?

The rest of the day, he spent with many questions in his head, getting more and more involved in the whole situation. He had been doing such a good job of keeping himself from messaging Zitao and now the other personally delivered tickets to his concert. Taemin’s time here was almost over, just three more weeks and he had already declared it for the best to not see the Chinese male in person, simply because he had no idea what to expect of their meeting. But now this happened, and the game changed completely.

“You are going right?” Jiao-Long asked as he watched Taemin’s serious face, giving him the tickets back.

“I don’t know…” The Korean male admitted, looking at the tickets in his hands.

“What do you say?! You don’t know?!” Jiao-Long looked at the younger as if he was completely crazy. “This happens to nobody. You go! I will not allow not going!”

The rest of the day the air in the studio was tense even though Taemin didn’t understand what the others were talking about, he knew for sure that Jiao-Long didn’t keep this morning’s events to himself. The other artists were mostly friendly even if slightly envious of the status Taemin enjoyed at their studio these days but today, their looks were filled with even more jealousy than usual.

He also didn’t feel like eating lunch with them today, which was why he visited one of his usual restaurants close to the studio to call Dongyoon, his middle school friend who was planning on spending Christmas with him in Bejing.

“Hyung!” The familiar voice on the other end of the line said after taking the call.

“Hi Dongyoon-ah!” Taemin answered and felt his chest lighten instantly. Being alone here made him miss his fiends back home even more.

After they talked about their days and how everything was going, Taemin decided it was time to ask the big question.

“What do you think about coming to Bejing one week earlier?”

“Oh… Why?” the other asked.

“I got tickets to a concert and I really don’t feel like going with any of the guys here. And alone, I definitely don’t want to go.” Taemin admitted, taking a bite of his dumpling.

“But why did you get tickets for a concert you don’t have anyone to go with and don’t want to go alone? That’s not like you.”

“I got them as a present.”

“UHH!” Dongyoon’s reaction was immediate. “Who gave them to you? Oh wait, but if you got them as a gift, why don’t you go with the person who gave them to you? They are pretty much asking you on a date!”

“It’s complicated.” Taemin tried to avoid the question.

“I am not coming if you don’t tell me. If I am saving you from an awful date, I want to at least know whom I am saving you from.” Dongyoon said, not leaving any space for discussion.

“You promise you will come?”

“I do, now spill it. It can’t be that bad.”

“I was invited by the artist. So, I cannot go with the person who gave me the tickets, because he will be on stage.” Taemin said, a little fast, hoping his friend wouldn’t quite catch all of it.

“And why the hell didn’t you say so earlier? You made me believe it was something big. So a friend of yours has a performance? Nice! I’ll see what I can do. Theoretically I can try to move my visit forward a week. I will check with my boss tomorrow and let you know. Alright?”

“That would be amazing. Thank you!” Taemin said, more than happy that he didn’t have to take Jiao-Long with him. The older was a nice guy but the last thing he needed was to have a hardcore Z.Tao fan by his side. In case they would actually meet, he didn’t want a second pair of eyes on them as he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. In his mind everything was possible: from a short glance into the crowd to an awkward handshake to them having sex on the floor – he could imagine everything.

A few days later, Dongyoon sent him a text with his new flight and Taemin could barely hide his excitement while he was sitting on his bed. Now, he was actually looking forward to the concert. Even though he wasn’t very familiar with Zitao’s music, he was anticipating seeing the Chinese male perform live. From what he was told by all the fans that visited him daily, he must be amazing on stage.

The days at the studio always passed quickly as he was incredibly busy all the time and that way, the two weeks to Dongyoon’s arrival passed in a blink. Taemin found himself waiting at the airport to take his friend back to his place. Of course, the owner of the tattoo studio didn’t deny him his wish, knowing how much money the Korean artist made for them and he even got an extra room for the visitor.

The whole taxi ride to the studio was filled with laughter and comfortable conversation, something Taemin had missed during his time in China. He wasn’t miserable here, he just missed being able to talk to people without having someone to translate with him. Yes, he had picked up some phrases in Chinese along the way, but it wasn’t nearly enough to understand what others were talking about.

Dongyoon had just completed his bachelor’s degree in analytical mathematics – something Taemin had absolutely no understanding of – and was telling him about the ceremony when the taxi finally arrived at its destination.

“This is the place? Nice.” Dongyoon commented upon seeing the spacious studio.

“Yeah it is.”

It was Sunday, the concert was on Wednesday, so he still had a few days to mentally prepare himself and Dongyoon was definitely helping him relax. Every moment that Taemin wasn’t working, the two would go around Bejing, seeing new places. Even though Taemin desperately wanted to talk about the concert as he was slowly getting excited to see it, he rarely brought it up to not sound like a completely obsessed person. Dongyoon though, being the smart man he was, noticed that there was something off about the whole thing.

“The concert we go to tomorrow,” He started “Who’s that guy?”

Taemin, who was sitting across from him while they were getting dinner at a restaurant in a part of the city the tattoo artist has never been to, played with his food instead of answering.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah.. Uhm… It is complicated?” Taemin tried but Dongyoon wouldn’t let that slide this time.

“Common, it wouldn’t hurt you to just tell me. One of your nightly acquaintances?” He guessed but retreated right away. “No, then you would have told me the first time.”

“Fine, but you must keep it to yourself.” Taemin gave in, knowing the other wouldn’t let him live if he didn’t tell him.

“Who are you taking me for Hyung?”

“Alright… Do you remember the Chinese customer I had last year? The one I made the huge sleeve for?”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Dongyoon almost shouted through the whole restaurant. “YOU MET HIM AGAIN?”

“Shht don’t be so loud, people are watching.” Taemin said, almost whispering.

“What you are doing is even stranger, why are you so worried, people here don’t understand Korean and anyway they are for sure not interested in the guy you spent the, this is what you said: ‘Most beautiful night of your life’ with.”

“I didn’t meet him, he delivered an envelope and tickets to the studio…”

“That is quite romantic if you ask me. I have one question though, why do you need me to come with you, wouldn’t I be in the way when you two meet afterwards and do what ever you will be doing?” Dongyoon asked taking eating a spoon full of rice.

Taemin shook his head. “I don’t think I can meet him afterwards…”

“Why the heck wouldn’t you?! If he invited you to his concert and then you disappear before he can meet you, that would take away all the meaning of his action. He obviously invited you because he wanted to meet you and you dare to walk away before he can? Hyung you are really clueless, aren’t you?” Dongyoon was visibly annoyed and amused about how oblivious his friend was to 90% of what was happening to him at the moment.

Taemin sighted. “It is not that I don’t want to meet him, I am just guessing it will be hard to see him in person.”

“Please, what kind of concert are we talking about here?”

“One with too much security for me to just go and meet him…” Taemin admitted, narrowing his eyes.

“Security? Taemin, how well known is this guy?” Dongyoon has stopped eating, waiting for his friend to answer the question.

“Known enough to give me the opportunity to work in China for 3 months, full time, with at least four customers a day.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes.”

The concert venue was visible from afar. An incredible amount of people was filling the streets, plenty of them wearing shirts with either Zitao’s face or name on it. Taemin felt uncomfortable walking through all these people, knowing that he, without even being a fan of said male, had been invited by Zitao personally to attend the concert while many of these probably weren’t able to get a ticket to attend the event.

Interestingly enough, there were so many different faces. Zitao seemed to be of interest for various social-groups. There were teenagers, waving their Zitao fans, intimidating subgroups of punks, as well as the local hip-hop people.

For a second Taemin wondered if they made a bad decision with coming to the location only an hour before the concert was supposed to start. There were so many people around. Would he really get there in time? What if he was in the very last row barely seeing the Chinese male he had missed for so long?

Somehow, they made it to the entrance of the club. It was way too crowded and Taemin was absolutely overwhelmed with the size of Zitao’s fanbase. He had guessed the other would be popular, but this was exceeding his expectations.

As soon as they were inside after getting thorough security and identity checks, Taemin finally fully understood why this concert was such a big happening. The club barely had enough space for the people that already filled the place, no more than 600 people pressed tightly against each other. There was chatter all over the place and neither Taemin nor Dongyoon understood anything, so they were just awkwardly standing somewhere in the back where there was still some space to breathe.

Out of nowhere, suddenly a guy was standing in front of them, talking to Taemin in Chinese and the latter used his most used sentence in Chinese: “Sorry I don’t speak Chinese”

The taller man’s eyes grew a little bigger in surprise, probably not expecting a foreigner to be here. But instead of walking away, the man took out his phone and, a few seconds after, showed Taemin the Weibo post that had started all of this. With a questioning look on his face, he pointed at Taemin, asking if this was made by him – if the he interpreted it correctly.

“Yes.” The tattoo artist said in Chinese and the taller promptly asked for a picture with gestures. Even though Taemin wasn’t comfortable taking pictures with random people he decided that it would be way to complicated to decline, so he found himself in the Chinese man’s arms while the latter was taking at least ten pictures of them.

“This is nuts.” Dongyoon said when the other man left them, completely flabbergasted that Taemin even got recognised.

“I should cover up, maybe they won’t notice that way…” Taemin said, closing a few buttons of his shirt and rolling down the sleeves of it. He had been aware that there have been pictures of him cruising the net, but the fact that someone recognised him was slightly creepy and he wasn’t feeling as comfortable as before.

The concert started easily half an hour later than scheduled but Taemin wasn’t surprised. The whole organisation was a mess and there were way more people than expected.

The tension rose from minute to minute and when the person of interest finally took the stage, the crowd got wild. Taemin couldn’t help but stare at the man he had longed for for so long. It suddenly felt like they spent the night together yesterday, while at the same time it was as if he hadn’t seen Zitao for several years. He looked different. Maybe it was the spotlights, maybe it was the makeup, maybe it was the new hairstyle – Taemin couldn’t quite tell. But Zitao looked so unlike the gentle man he met back in Korea it was almost frightening.

On one hand, Taemin was taken aback about how distant and unfamiliar the dazzling figure on the stage felt but on the other hand he was completely taken in by the performance the Chinese male gave. He was obviously made to be doing what he was doing. His whole persona was glowing and was able to get the whole crowd to go completely crazy.

Not too far into the concert, Taemin was dancing and jumping alongside the fans, while the strong bass of the beat was vibrating through his body. Dongyoon at his side did the same and both Koreans found themselves completely hyped at a concert where they were barely familiar with any songs.

By the time the concert was over, both were covered in sweat and partially out of breath.

“You banged this dude?!” Was the first thing Dongyoon said when they were finally able to talk again. The loud music was still ringing in their ears, everything was dull, so this sentence probably came out way louder than anticipated.

“Shut up.” Taemin immediately tried to do damage control. The last thing he wanted was for rumours to spread. As far as he could tell, Zitao’s fanbase was anything but relaxed and as well as worrying about the taller’s career, he was worried about his own safety.

“No but seriously, you aren’t lying to me? This dude is a motherfucking monster.”

“Can you stop? I didn’t bring you here to become his fan.”

“You shouldn’t have taken me then. This shit is right up my alley.”

Taemin walked out of the club slowly. As slowly as he could. Seeing Zitao after almost a year and not being able to even say hello was painful. Until the very last second, he was hoping for someone to turn up and take him backstage. It was cocky of him to assume that Zitao would have someone sent to get him, but he still wished he would.

Of course, no one came, and the two Koreans made their way outside without getting held-up by anyone, the adrenalin of the concert still rushing through their veins. 

At home, Taemin was unable to fall asleep. It was as if he was still at the concert. His heart pumping and the beat still conducting his breathing. After almost an hour of trying to fall asleep, he stood up to fill a decent glass with Baijiu, the only Chinese liquor he actually liked and downed it in one go. Too many thoughts flooded his mind still, so he filled it up again.

Why didn’t Zitao send someone to bring him backstage? If he didn’t want to meet him, why did he invite him in the first place? Was he a show-off? Nothing made sense - he filled another glass of Baijiu.

Slightly angry and disappointed at how the night turned out, he searched his jacket for the ticket, staring at it for a while.

“Damn you Huang Zitao. Damn you and your fucking attractive face.” Taemin mumbled, the alcohol making its way into his system.

In a moment of anger, Taemin ripped the paper into two pieces and threw them on the floor.

One of them fell face forward and revealed numbers. There was a combination of numbers on the back of the ticket. Taemin was confused. What did those numbers mean? Was this the serial number of the ticket? It looked messy. It wasn’t printed.

It took the drunk male several seconds to realise that those numbers were written by hand and another few seconds to put two and two together. Without wasting any more time, Taemin grabbed his phone and typed in the number.

Before he knew what was happening, the familiar dial tone filled the room.

“Yes?” A familiar voice said in Chinese and Taemin dropped the phone.

“Hello?” The voice sounded tired and annoyed. This word followed a long stream of Chinese that Taemin didn’t understand anything of.

Taemin only managed to utter a soft “Zitao” before the call was ended.

Of course, he would hang up if a random number called him and didn’t say anything. Taemin blamed himself until a few seconds later the phone in his hand was vibrating. He was calling him back. Fuck. What should he say? Suddenly the confidence he had before disappeared. Only when it didn’t stop ringing after half a minute Taemin mustered up the courage to take the call.

“Hi” He said in Chinese swallowing hard after uttering the foreign phrase.

“Taemin?” Zitao spoke in disbelief. His name was followed by a few sentences spoken in fast Chinese that the latter was hopefully aware Taemin didn’t understand.

“Hmm?”

It was obvious that having a conversation over the phone was completely impossible. Neither translators nor body language could be used to communicate. Completely dependent on language, messages couldn’t be carried across.

Therefore, the call was kept incredibly short and only seconds after, Taemin’s phone vibrated again, a message in Korean on his screen.

-Sorry. I don’t remember any Korean. Thank you so much for calling. Did you see the concert?

Taemin smiled for a second. He couldn’t blame the other. He has been staying in China for almost three months now and he still doesn’t know even the basics.

-Don’t worry I don’t speak Chinese either and I have been staying in China for several months. I did see the concert. Actually, my friend is your fan now! He loved it a lot.

Using a translator app Taemin was able to send the message in Chinese and threw his body onto his bed, head spinning in the process. It didn’t take long for a reply to arrive.

-Where do you stay? Close to the studio? What about you? How did YOU like the Concert?

Taemin had to laugh because of the amount of questions in just one sentence. But honestly, the question about the concert was hard to answer. He had mixed feelings about it. On one hand it had been great, musically and performance wise it was top-notch, he could not deny that they had a great amount of fun. But something about the whole experience felt off, foreign. It took him a little longer to send this message than the previous ones.

-Yes, my place is right above the studio! It was good...

-Did you not like it?

It seemed Zitao saw right through him.

-No.. That’s not it. I just hoped that we would meet at the concert.

-I didn’t think you wanted to meet me. You never texted…

\- I have only found the number on the back right now. I am so sorry.

-This is a huge misunderstanding then.

Taemin sighed. He couldn’t even be angry with Zitao now. Before he could blame him for sending him mixed signals, but it turns out that it was actually him who didn’t send any signal at all. The next message was sent faster than his mind could properly register what he was typing.

-Can we meet?

-When are you leaving?

-Next Saturday.

\- I’ll be pretty busy until then. I don’t know if I can make time.

-What about now?

-What do you mean?

-Do you have time now?

-It is three in the morning.

-I know. Do you want to come over? I’m alone.

After sending another message and not getting a reply, Taemin realised he might have just overstepped boundaries. It was an invitation to spend the night with him. It wasn’t even lowkey but pretty “in your face”. For a while Taemin kept staring at his phone, desperately waiting for a reply but his eyelids got heavier until he finally dozed off.

He woke up to the loud sound of his doorbell. Who the heck was at his door? Was he late for work? With a look at the clock he saw that it wasn’t even four in the morning. Who dared to wake him up like this?

When the ringing didn’t stop after a few minutes, Taemin got up from his bed, and walked to the door to tell the person to fuck off. He was in a bad mood already, he really didn’t need this.

“Fuck off.” Taemin said into the speaker before turning around again to go back to bed. Back in bed, he checked his phone, only to see several missed calls and messages from one particular Chinese male. He was instantly awake and almost jogged to the door.

“Zitao?”

“Yes” followed his question in Chinese and Taemin opened the door.

Taemin’s heartbeat sped up as he heard steps walking up the stairs. He was coming closer.

The moment their eyes met again for the first time in what felt like forever, it was as if they had spent the night together just yesterday. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t strange like it had been for Taemin to watch the taller on stage. It felt familiar and Taemin found himself hugging the taller as soon as he was close enough to reach him. If Zitao was surprised, he didn’t show it but just hugged him back, his strong arms wrapping around the Korean male’s body gently, pulling him closer.

Taemin buried his face in the taller’s neck, inhaling the latter’s musty scent. They stayed in this position for quite a while until Zitao broke the silence and mumbled something that sounded a whole lot like “I missed you” in Korean but with an incredibly strong Chinese accent.

“What?” Taemin asked back in Korean, lifting his face to let the taller know he didn’t quite catch that.

“I missed you.” Zitao read from his hand where a phrase was written in Chinese characters, probably indicating the pronunciation of the Korean phrase. Now, Taemin understood, his lips pulling into a soft smile.

He pointed at himself, then at Zitao. “I missed you too.”

The taller immediately understood and smiled back, bending forward to capture Taemin’s lips without hesitation. For a few seconds neither of them dared to move further, afraid of the long-awaited moment fleeting.

The only thing moving were Taemin’s hands who took a hold of Zitao’s waist, pulling him even closer, gently. The latter nudged closer, taking the invitation with a throaty sound as he pressed his body against the Korean male’s. The kiss lasted for several minutes but didn’t feel longer than seconds. 

Taemin was the one who broke it when he realised the door was still open and they were on full display, almost making out in the hallway – for everyone to see. Not that many people would be wandering the building at this hour, but still.

For a second, Zitao looked confused but immediately followed when the smaller pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. The apartment was really small, barely two rooms, but Taemin never quite minded as he was only here temporarily. But now, he wished he was living somewhere more spacious, somewhere nice, somewhere with a view. He wasn’t embarrassed per-se, just knew that Zitao was probably used to another standard and therefore almost felt bad for not being able to offer a nicer place.

The taller didn’t seem to mind though, took his shoes off and followed Taemin into the small kitchen where the latter filled the water heater. It was the only thing he had at home: Ginseng tea. As cliché as it sounded, he couldn’t go without Ginseng tea and therefore brought quite the amount with him to China.

While the water was boiling and Taemin was busy in the kitchen, Zitao walked right towards the table that was full of paper and pens, the table he obviously used for his sketching. It was right at the window that gave a semi-decent view on the neighbourhood. That was if you were able to look past the ugly building right across from it of course.

Taemin, who had gathered everything he needed and just had to wait for the water to boil was watching as Zitao sat down on the small, uncomfortable chair and started to look through the sketches.

When the tea was ready, Taemin walked over to the Chinese male who was still looking at the drawings and rough sketches that were scattered across the whole table. He was so immerged into them that he winced when Taemin placed the cup on one of the few free spaces on the table and pushed together the incredible number of sheets to make more space on the tiny table. After doing so, he put down his cup as well and sat on the bed. The room was so small that the bed was functioning as a second chair, which otherwise would have been missing.

With an offering gesture, Taemin pointed at the tea and the taller thanked him with a soft nod. Once more, Taemin was frustrated. He wasn’t able to move the conversation further without help. He should have studied some Chinese. Why hadn’t he? He should have known it would come in handy one day.

He took out his phone, putting it between them, translator device opened and Zitao gave him a soft smile that didn’t fit his appearance at all. The smile Taemin had missed all year. The smile he had missed especially during the concert. He finally understood at right that moment why he felt so strange seeing the other on stage. The softness he had experienced was completely missing when he was performing. Taemin didn’t know if that kind of strong, manly persona was a publicity stunt or if he did it without noticing.

Zitao was the first one to grab the phone and type something.

-Are they treating you well? This apartment is so small!

Taemin chuckled, so the other did notice.

-It’s fine, I don’t need much. But I can assure you that I am looking forward to working by myself again. This has been incredibly stressful and unfamiliar for me.

To Taemin’s surprise Zitao’s hand didn’t reach for the phone, but instead took a hold of his hand, squeezing it lightly as if he wanted to tell him that everything was alright. It could also mean that he was sorry. Again, frustration built up and he gestured Zitao to keep typing – which the taller did, just without letting go of his hand. It took longer to type with one hand, but Taemin didn’t mind the break. He enjoyed the warmth of Zitao’s hand on his own and was more than glad to stay in this position for as long as needed.

-I am sorry for putting you in this situation. I didn’t expect them to find you and even bring you here. Usually people stop caring about something like this after less than a week. I didn’t think it would affect you in the end.

-NO, don’t worry! I took the offer because I was intrigued, and it wasn’t too bad of an experience, at least now I know how I don’t want to be working.

Zitao looked a little sceptical as he read the latest message. With his thumb he was caressing Taemin’s hand gently while he answered.

-I am still sorry. Can I hold you?

The sudden change in direction surprised the Korean male who couldn’t do anything but nod. Before he quite knew what happened, he already found himself on the small bed, Zitao’s body pressed against his own. Their limbs intertwined and soon enough, their lips met again, now with more passion than before. “Holding” wasn’t exactly the word that Taemin would have used in this context, maybe it was a mistake in translation, because what Zitao did was everything BUT holding him. He massaged his thighs with one hand while the other one moved underneath his shirt, pinching his pierced nipples gently.

Taemin couldn’t help but moan and burry his hands in the Chinese male’s hair. It felt so good to be back in his arms. The feeling was hard to describe and there was no need to do so. Finally, it wasn’t just his fading memories. Finally he was back in his arms.

Zitao’s hand then let go of the nipples, his fingers softly brushing along Taemin’s sides until it found the hem of his shirt. Without hesitation his other hand came to help, and the Chinese pulled the black shirt over Taemin’s head, their lips separating only for that purpose.

Right after removing Taemin’s, Zitao also removed his own shirt and their eyes met. Taemin’s heart beat so fast, he had troubles staying calm. The man above him was absolutely gorgeous. His fierce eyes that stared at him so softly, his messy hair that stood up in every direction, his tattoos that gave a strong contrast to his pale skin.

When Zitao didn’t bend down again, Taemin sat up, his hand grabbing the latter’s left arm to inspect his own work that had healed completely fine. The details on the dragon weren’t as sharp as they used to be and if this was a consultation, Taemin would have told him to get it touched up. His eyes lingered on the dragon for a few seconds too long and Zitao noticed.

Of course, the taller knew what the artist thought and immediately took his own phone from his pants’ back pocket.

-It needs re-touching, doesn’t it?

Taemin nodded, the heat he felt before slowly calming down. That wasn’t an option though, so without waiting another second he grabbed the phone and typed one word.

-Later.

Right after Zitao read it, he threw his phone aside, not caring where it landed because all his attention was back on the gorgeous Korean male who immediately started moaning when he pressed his knee against his crotch.

“Wait” the latter said in Korean and Zitao stopped, wondering what Taemin was saying. He watched while the tattoo artist reached for the phone again without leaving his position beneath him.

-Are you clean?

The message made everything a lot clearer. Zitao nodded and typed his answer.

-I cleaned myself out at home. It was pretty obvious where this was going...

The tattoo artist smirked as he read Zitao’s answer and threw the phone aside, now for real, and put his attention back on the taller male. Yes he did like the fact that Zitao was taller than him - usually. But in bed he liked to take control most of the time, so he used all his force to turn them around. Zitao, unlike a year ago didn’t give in so easily. For a few seconds, Taemin was uncertain if he would manage to take the lead, but in the end, the taller did what he wanted, now laying on his back and now it was Taemin who caressed his body.

The latter grinded his hips against Zitao’s, his lips sucking on his neck, leaving invisible marks on the inked skin. With his hands, he pressed against the taller’s privates, which made him breath in sharply through his teeth whenever the pressure and friction was too much.

“Fuck you are so beautiful” Taemin mumbled in Korean when he took a moment to look at Zitao’s face. The latter had no idea what Taemin said, but it didn’t matter. Just hearing his voice and imagining what he was saying was enough for him to slip a moan.

“You love it when I talk to you don’t you?” Taemin said fully aware that the question wouldn’t be answered. “Even though you don’t understand what I say. This is fascinating.”

Zitao’s eyes turned in pleasure when the Korean male’s hands were running along his abdomen as he was speaking. The inked hands were slowly creeping up towards his nipples and started twisting the pierced buds as soon as they reached them.

Taemin noticed that while he was paying attention to the Chinese male’s nipples, the latter’s hips were very tense, slightly lifted off the matrass. It was obvious that this wasn’t enough. It was crystal clear that after not being together for over a year, foreplay was more than redundant.

“I am sorry I cannot hold back.”

From that moment on, everything that had built up during a year had to get out of Taemin’s system and Zitao seemed to feel the exact same. In seconds both of them were completely naked and a wide smile spread across Zitao’s face when he saw that the tattoo artist was, in fact, wearing his piercing this time. Taemin’s dick was standing proud in between his legs, the prince albert glistening in the light.

Zitao didn’t remember the other’s penis to be this gorgeous but that moment he couldn’t care less about looking at it properly. Neither of them had anymore patience. Everything happened incredibly fast. Taemin tried to stand up from the bed, why? Zitao didn’t know and completely freaked out. Was he backing out? He wasn’t allowed to now. In his fanatic fear that the other would leave, Zitao jumped after him, holding him close, trying to keep the smaller with him. His rock-hard dick was pressed into Taemin’s crack, which engulfed it in a beautiful warmth.

Taemin, who was completely stunned by Zitao’s reaction, turned around in the tight embrace, miming the word “condom” and “lube” in the same way the Chinese male had done a year ago and finally he relaxed. Zitao let the tattoo artist go, who shortly returned from the bathroom with lube and took a condom out of a jacket that hung near the entrance.

When he was close enough, he threw the condom at Zitao who caught it and opened it in the blink of an eye. They couldn’t wait anymore. It only took another few seconds before the condom was put on Taemin’s erection, the piercing leaving quite a little of loose condom at the top but there wasn’t any other way to do this.

It was Zitao who decided on the position, getting on all fours as he spread his ass cheeks for Taemin to have perfect access. The latter immediately started stretching him. Yes, they were in a rush, but he had no intention to hurt him. So, the few minutes of careful stretching were completely necessary. While he was working his fingers in and out of Zitao’s anus, He bent over the latter’s body, licking and nibbling on the skin of the rapper’s back.

Zitao couldn’t help but moan and arched his back to show Taemin how good he felt. He was barely breathing because everything was just too much – so he thought. But when Taemin’s second hand grabbed a hold of his dick, he got a new definition of “too much”. He was collapsing onto the bed, Taemin’s hand on his length getting caught in between the sheets and his body. 

The tattoo artist let go of the other’s member that moment and reached for more lube, spreading it across Zitao’s crack as well as his own erection.

“I love seeing you like this” Taemin almost growled as he gently pressed his pierced tip inside Zitao’s hot warmth. “It’s so fucking hot.”

The rapper was mush beneath him. His face was planted on the bed, barely able to comprehend anything that was happening around him while Taemin’s hands spread his ass cheeks so he could burry himself even deeper inside of him.

The feeling of the pierced dick making its way inside of him deeper and deeper was incredible. Zitao had always wondered how it felt like to be fucked by someone who was wearing the same piercing he had. Now the time had finally come, and he was blown away. It wasn’t all too different from when they had sex last time without the ring, but there was a small but subtle difference that changed the experience completely and made it even more erotic.

Even though the penis glided in without resistance, the piercing sometimes got caught in his insides, pressing into the walls in a way he had never felt before. It felt so good, Zitao was afraid that he would never enjoy sex without it anymore. But that thought only crossed his mind for a second before Taemin was buried completely and started moving his hips in slow motions. He couldn’t help but moan Chinese profanities while the tattoo artist sped up his pace.

“Fuck right there. Your cock is so good.” Zitao’s voice mixed with Taemin’s grunts as the pace took a more or less regular rhythm.

Taemin couldn’t hold that rhythm for very long though, he slowed down to lie down onto Zitao’s backside, his torso now connected to Zitao’s back as he moved in and out of his hole slowly. Surprised by the sudden weight on his back that pressed his erection harder against the matrass, the Chinese male hissed and arched his back to get his dick a little bit of space. The tattoo artist had obviously noticed Zitao’s tries to get comfortable and wrapped his arms around the taller’s body until he was able to pull him back on all fours.

It took quite a bit of strength to pull Zitao’s body with him as he got back on his knees, Taemin’s length never leaving Zitao’s anus. As soon as they were both comfortable again, Taemin sped up his pace again, holding it for a little longer than before.

By the time the tattoo artist got tired and his thrusts irregular, they switched and Zitao used the last bit of his energy to lazily bounce up and down Taemin’s dick that glided in and out easily. Neither of them was able to keep their eyes open, they just saw each other through hooded eyes, mouths open while they were breathing heavily.

Against Zitao’s abs, his pierced penis was bouncing with his movements adding the most erotic sounds to the mix whenever the length met with skin - be it Taemin's or Zitao's own.

Taemin’s inked hands were holding onto Zitao’s supporting the latter as good as he could. They changed position many times, Taemin holding up the Chinese male’s legs while pounding into him, Zitao sitting on Taemin’s crotch while kissing him and rubbing his heavy length against the tattoo artist’s tummy.

When the tattoo artist felt himself coming closer to release, he took over control again, moving them into a missionary position and started to thrust into Zitao’s welcoming hole in an almost inhuman speed, taking every last bit of stamina he could find. The adrenalin rush and the need for ejaculation made it possible to move even faster, getting just the right amount of friction for him to release into the condom only a few moments after he had turned them around.

“FUCK I AM COMING!” He shouted as he pressed his head against Zitao’s chest. The latter was rocking with his thrusts, moaning loudly that Taemin could even feel the vibrations in the other’s body.

“Shit Shit Shit” Taemin said like a mantra while he rode out his orgasm, a few more strings of cum shooting into the condom.

Zitao felt the twitching of Taemin’s dick inside him, the piercing pressing up against his prostate as it had done many times before - but now it was different. He himself was close to coming as well and hearing Taemin’s voice while he hit his orgasm, those foreign words spoken so full of need and pleasure made his insides tingle as well.

“Keep going please. Oh my god. So, fucking good. Please never stop.” Zitao mumbled and used his hand to give his own heavy length the attention it desperately needed. He moved the skin along the hard muscle, speeding up the pace as he approached his orgasm. Taemin had stopped moving by now, but left his penis inside to give Zitao the possibility to feel him as he came. This was a gesture Zitao appreciated more than he thought he would.

“So FULL” He moaned in Chinese and Taemin’s hands started fondling his balls while he was jerking himself off.

“YESSSS” Zitao screamed when he came into his hand, strings of white shooting out of his slit, coating the metal of the piercing as well as parts of his body with the sticky substance. While his balls were pumping out the sperm, his anus was contracting alongside, squeezing the softening dick inside of him.

“You look so beautiful” Taemin said, hating the fact that Zitao wouldn’t even understand. “So fucking gorgeous.”

They were lying next to each other on the bed. completely spent but one hundred percent awake. The sex was still ringing in their ears and their blood was still pumping. Neither of them quite cared about the cum which they were still covered in. They would clean up eventually. Only slowly, they calmed down and soon, Zitao’s hold on Taemin tightened and he started placing butterfly kisses on the latter’s head.

Of course, that wasn’t enough for long and Zitao guided Taemin’s head up by holding his chin, looking into his eyes shortly before placing a soft peck on the Korean’s lips. A few more followed not too long after, during the few seconds in between the pecks, their lips were just slightly apart and their noses still touching. Both used their hands to hold onto the other person softly. One of Taemin’s arms was caught in between his side and the bed but the other one was placed on Zitao’s strong chest, applying just about no pressure. Zitao who had placed one arm beneath Taemin’s head used his other, free hand to cup the other’s face while his lips were moving against Taemin’s warm ones.

They were brought back to reality by the sound of a message arriving - Zitao recognised it as his phone and stretched to reach for it. After checking the message and realising that it wasn’t important at all, he, instead of answering it, opened the camera and looked at Taemin in a questioning manner, asking non-verbally if it would be alright to take another photograph. Taemin didn't mind and pressed his face against Zitao's while the other one took the picture. It was then immediately sent to Taemin's phone number and after hearing the confirming sound of a message arriving on the tattoo artist's phone, he opened the translator device again, typing for a while. Patiently, Taemin waited for the Chinese male to finish and watched his facial expressions change while he was writing. Not to long after, the bright screen of the phone was held in front of his face and he read the message with a beating heart.

-I really, really missed this. I don’t know why this is, but being with you is so different. I don’t even feel exhausted, I am just happy. Thank you so much for allowing me to come over. It was absolutely incredible and I wished this would last longer. It pains me to know that I won’t be able to see you again until you leave.

By the end of the message, Taemin’s heart was heavy. He took the phone form Zitao, typing his answer in.

-I don’t know what to say… You don’t need to thank me. It was wonderful. It's unlike anything I have experienced. Quite frankly, I have been with many people the last year. None of them can compare to this.

When Zitao read the message, he felt slightly uncomfortable. Of course, Taemin was a grown man and Zitao knew that he would be having sexual relations in his life – he did too – but it felt strange to have him say it right after they had been intimate.

-How do you usually meet the people you spend your nights with?

The Chinese male didn’t know why he asked it, he just did and Taemin didn’t seem to mind the question much.

-Mostly online. Especially when I just want to stay for the night, it would be strange to have friends introduce me to someone only to spend some time together in bed. Apps make it easy and uncomplicated, we both want the same, so there is no confusion at all.

Taemin handed the phone with the message to Zitao but while the latter was reading, Taemin grabbed the phone again, taking it out of his hands to add something to the message.

-That just made me wonder, how can you meet people? Isn’t it hard if everyone knows you?

Zitao, who had been confused by the sudden action relaxed his eyebrows when he read through the additional question.

-It is, in fact, pretty complicated. I have one friend I know from high school that offers me release from time to time and I can be sure that he doesn’t give away sensitive information. Finding people in clubs is possible as well but it takes quite a bit of effort to find someone who doesn’t care about leaking my sexuality. I did meet up with four or five this way though.

Honestly, Taemin had never thought about how famous people were able to be sexually active without it resulting in a big scandal. Hearing this was interesting at the same time as it was unsettling. Who was that friend from high school? Did they have feelings for each other? Even though he knew that it wasn’t his business, he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question.

-So, are you and that friend dating?

Zitao, while reading, shook his head and immediately started to type his reply.

-We tried. But it didn’t work out. He is a great person to have as a friend but both of us knew that it couldn’t be more after less than a week.

-But you are still meeting up?

-Yes, we try to meet whenever I am in Bejing. Why?

-No reason… Did you meet him this time?

-I have arranged a meeting with him next week.

-Ah ok…

Taemin answered, feeling a little disappointed. He wasn’t sure what he had expected and didn’t know what he wanted to hear. He was sure though, that he didn’t like Zitao meeting up with other men even though he was perfectly aware that he had every right to do so.

It was also Taemin who changed the topic and asked Zitao if he should touch-up the tattoo now. Otherwise he would have to wait until they met again someday.

Neither of them knew what time it was, but they weren’t tired either. Just being together got rid of all the fatigue. So, despite the early hour, Zitao decided to go for it and the two of them cleaned up a little, putting their clothes back on.

As quietly as possible the two walked downstairs, not caring about their appearance at all. Taemin was used to how the studio looked this early in the morning. Dark and cold. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to work, mostly because the main room was a huge open space, enclosed by huge glass windows.

“Follow me” Taemin said in Korean, even though Zitao didn’t understand the verbal message, the gesture he understood. He showed the taller to a smaller room that was closed off by a red curtain – where a more intimate setting was provided. 

The Chinese male took a seat on the chair while Taemin walked around the studio in fast paced steps to gather everything he needed. While he was alone in the small room, he took out his phone and played some music. That way the silence around them wouldn’t be as heavy.

Taemin returned with a smile on his face, his eyes lighting up when he saw that Zitao had already made himself comfortable, pulling his left arm out of his shirt. Almost provocatively, Taemin checked the other out, raising his eyebrows at the taller’s soft abs.

“hmmmmm” He moaned, licking his lips with a wide grin on his face. Zitao then bent forward to land a loving slap on Taemin’s butt. A daring move. Taemin couldn’t help but sit on Zitao’s lap right after, involving him in another very passionate kiss that lasted over minutes. As if their hair didn’t look bad enough before, it looked even worse now, their lips also completely wet and swollen.

During all that time, Zitao’s phone kept playing music in the background that created a comfortable air around them.

Taemin only broke the kiss when the song switched, and he thought he recognised Zitao’s voice for a second. But then again, he wasn’t sure because the song was more of a ballad than a rap song. The taller beneath him noticed his confusion and stretched to reach for his phone.

He showed it to Taemin, and the latter’s eyes went wide. It seemed to, in fact, be one of Zitao’s songs, he recognised the character of the other’s name as well as the English phrase “Demo” in the title of the song. In disbelief, Taemin sat on Zitao’s lap as the latter started to sing along with the song.

It was amazing and mind blowing to hear the rapper sing. Taemin didn’t know what he had expected, but for sure not this. Not long ago he had gotten accustomed to the fact that Zitao was a rapper and now he was presented with this completely different side of him. A side that he personally found way more fitting than the persona the latter had displayed on stage.

His voice was a little raspy, but soft at the same time and together with the song it worked wonders. Taemin’s hands took a hold of Zitao’s and squeezed them gently while looking right into his eyes as the last sounds of the songs filled the small room.

“很好” Taemin said, not sure if the pronunciation was correct but that was one of the phrases he had picked up on his stay in China. If he remembered correctly, it meant something along the lines of “Very good”

Zitao, without thinking another second, captured Taemin’s lips with his for the nth time that evening, moving his just slightly along Taemin’s full ones.

This time it took a few minutes longer than last time until they separated again. It was Zitao who pulled away and pointed at his arm, reminding Taemin what they came here for.

Even though it was tough, the tattoo artist pulled himself together, finally shaving the thin hair off Zitao’s arm to start the re-touching process. He had done this many times so it wasn’t anything but a routine. So it seemed. It was, though, different in the smallest details. His thigh touched Zitao’s, his fingers wanted to linger on his skin longer than needed, his heart was beating just a tiny bit faster and more than anything, he looked up from the tattoo every few minutes, his eyes meeting the ones of his client.

He constantly felt the taller’s gaze on his hands and head while he was trying to pay attention to what he was doing. It wasn’t complicated though and his hands did most of the work.

About half an hour later the touch-up was mostly done, and Taemin decided to take a short break before finishing it up completely. He put the machine aside, sanitised the freshly inked skin and covered it in plastic wrap. Zitao who knew that it wasn’t quite done yet watched the Korean male with confusion but let him do as he pleased.

It didn’t take long for Zitao to get the reason for the strange mid-tattooing-wrap. Because Taemin sat down on his lap again, playing with his hair. His inked fingers brushed through the dark hair while his eyes stared right into the dark black orbs of the Chinese male beneath him.

Taemin held the eye contact for such a long time that it was Zitao who got tired of it first. His hands which previously had been placed on the other’s hips pulled his face closer by the neck, sealing their lips in another kiss. By now both of them had lost count of how many times they had kissed tonight. But both were sure of one thing: they could do this forever.

The kiss didn’t progress much further as both were completely sexually satisfied from earlier. This didn’t stop them from making the best out of it though, Taemin’s hands cupping Zitao’s cheeks and Zitao’s eyes fluttering open from time to time only to see the gorgeous man in his lap. Due to the close proximity of the other’s face he was out of focus but it didn’t matter at all.

It wasn’t only Zitao who opened his eyes, Taemin as well needed to constantly reassure himself that the man he was kissing was in fact the one he had longed for for so long.

This moment though was fleeting. This could never work and both of them knew it. They had their own lives and those lives were 952km apart. Desperation filled the kiss after a while. Sadness that their time together was almost over. They didn’t need words to know how the other felt because they felt the exact same thing and their actions said more then one hundred words. The tiny bit of pressure Taemin’s fingers applied to the spot below Zitao’s pierced ears, the soft circles Zitao’s thumb drew on Taemin’s neck. It didn’t need more. It was perfect the way it was.

For a second, Taemin thought he heard someone come in. It couldn’t already be this late, so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind while the kiss got more passionate again. This moment should last forever.

“有人在吗?” 

It was now Zitao who opened his eyes and pushed the tattoo artist away. With a questioning look on his face, he non-verbally asked if Taemin had heard it too, someone asking if anyone was there. And Taemin had, he recognised the voice of the only female tattoo artist of the store instantly. He immediately got off Zitao’s lap and unwrapped the other’s arm to not be caught in this mess. 

In panic he tried to set up everything, so it looked like they were just touching up the tattoo. But he wasn’t fast enough. Ziyi stood in the doorframe of the room, looking at Taemin in confusion. 

Hearing how close the uninvited guest was, Zitao hid his face. Luckily, he was sitting with the back to the entrance of the room, so he could at least give it a shot to hide his identity. From the corner of his eyes he saw Taemin struggling, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t say anything to explain himself as the other person wouldn’t understand him anyway. At the same time as he trusted Taemin, he knew that this situation had to be handled with words. So he spoke. 

“I am one of Taemin’s friends who came here to visit. Sorry, did we make too much noise?” He spoke, trying to make a few mistakes in pronunciation, imitating what he thought sounded like a Korean accent. 

“Oh! I didn’t know you spoke Chinese. I was about to get ready for work. So you weren’t too loud, don’t worry.” The woman said. “are you getting a new tattoo so early in the morning? Did you guys even sleep?” She asked, huffing slightly, seemingly impressed. 

“Yes, I learned it at university and no, he is just touching up an old one.” Zitao said, still trying to keep the act up. While he was doing so, Taemin didn’t know what to do and just stood there, watching the scene unfold. It was highly unnatural for Zitao not to turn around while he was speaking to Ziyi. The whole situation was so tense Taemin was sure his co-worker felt that something was wrong, no matter what they were talking about. 

“Can I see it? I love his work a lot.” She said, taking a few step forwards before Taemin intervened and stood in her way. 

“why is he not letting me through?”

“It’s not yet ready to be seen.” Zitao answered and from second to second Ziyi got more suspicious. 

“Are you really touching up a tattoo? You seem to have been doing other things here, and why are you not turning around. Hiding something?” She teased, invading their privacy.

“That’s none of your business.” The rapper gave back shortly, falling back into his Bejing-Mandarin. He was angry now, how dare she ask something like this. 

“Are you sure you are not Chinese?”

“Yes.” 

“I will leave you to it then.” She said, not sounding very convinced. But she did go out of the room and even closed the curtain behind her. 

As soon as the curtain was closed, both, Taemin and Zitao exhaled and the Korean male handed him the phone to explain what they had talked about. Zitao typed what had happened in a shorter version and gave it to the tattoo artist who got a little paler with every sentence. 

-I am so sorry; I should have kept track of the time. I will get you out of here immediately.

Taemin wrote and Zitao answered shortly:

-Finish the dragon, there isn’t much left, and we have to keep up the story. It would be strange if I leave now, before finishing the tattoo.

-I just don’t want you to be in trouble because of me.

-Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Let’s finish this up

Taemin nodded and did as he was told. Twenty minutes later, the re-touching was completed and he once more sanitised everything, wrapped the arm in plastic and gestured the taller to stand up. 

-This is it. Will we meet again?

Zitao looked at the message with sad eyes, making Taemin lose hope of seeing the rapper again in the near future. 

-It will be hard to meet again before you leave. I won’t have a free minute. But I have your number and you have mine. We should stay in touch. I really want to see you again.

Taemin sighed when he read the message and then suddenly had the deep desire to hug Zitao closely. His arms wrapped themselves around the taller’s body, pressing them together. 

“I will miss you so much” He said in Korean, incomprehensible for the Chinese male. He didn’t know that the phrase Zitao said in return meant the exact same thing. The hug lasted for a long time and was accompanied by Zitao’s hands running through Taemin’s soft hair as well as the tattoo artist’s caressing the sides of Zitao’s body.

As soon as they opened the door everything had to be done fast to avoid being watched. Going upstairs to grab all of Zitao’s stuff, covering his face with a black mask, as well as pulling the hood of his hoodie over his beautiful eyes, it all passed in a blink, and Taemin found himself waving while he watched the backlight of Zitao’s car disappear into the early morning sun way too soon.

They couldn’t even properly say goodbye because Ziyi was anything but discrete about watching them closely. Zitao didn’t even dare to take his hands out of the pockets to hold Taemin’s one last time and left the place with his head hung low, not looking back.

Just that all the effort was in vain. 

A/N

Oh god, this is so long again. 14.4k words. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am and if you are, even the tiniest comment would be a huge deal for me <3.  
The third and last chapter will be up within the next few weeks so I hope a few of you will stay tuned and read it as well!

Have a good one, and honestly thanks so much for reading. It means even more to see someone reading this story than all the other ones I have. Thank you and I love you. 

XX  
R


	3. Part III - Somewhere in Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this story. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading it. I haven't really gotten any feedback on this story because of the usual pairing... so if you came this far it would mean the world to me if you left a small comment >< I am not usually begging for comments like this, it's so awkward... But I really put my heart into this one unlike others of my stories...
> 
> I'll beg again at the end ahhahah for now I hope you enjoy this and even if you don't feel like giving feedback, THANK YOU for reading despite the unusual pairing!!  
> Long live TaeTao
> 
> xx

“I am so disappointed. How could this happen?”

“I liked his music for so long and now I can’t even listen to it anymore. How could he do this to all his fans that have given him everything he has?”

“I hate him.”

“Calm down, nothing is confirmed yet. I am sure this is a rumour someone made up to end his career. Let’s trust him at least until we have an official statement.” 

“No one wants this. Please let it be fake.”

“We have to do something. Make him leave the company!” 

“I can’t believe he deceived us for so long. I am so hurt.”

“It’s just rumours, don’t jump to conclusions! He wouldn’t want us to react like this.” 

“I just woke up… what is all this about Z.Tao being gay? Can someone explain?”

With a heavy sigh, Zitao put his phone aside. This summer definitely started with a bang. After he had woken up this morning and checked his phone he saw that his manager had tried to reach him throughout the whole night, leaving hundreds of messages. At first Zitao didn’t know what had happened but as soon as he opened his Weibo all his silent questions were answered.

He had no idea what exactly the rumour was, he had no idea how it started or who was responsible for spreading it. Zitao knew it was true. His fans did not. Yet.

It was unbearable to read through the comments any longer. Of course, this would create an uproar. He had always known that one day, he would have to come clean. But the harsh words of the people who had shown him nothing but love for so long were cutting into his heart with tiny knives. Immediately after checking Weibo for a few seconds, he turned off the phone to protect himself – just how he had been taught by the company.

Even though he hadn’t had a lot of backlash in his career coming from his fans, he was always familiar with the critical opinions of the public eye, especially older generations who didn’t understand his appearance and called his music noise. He learned to stay away from confrontation with negative comments about him and his music. This time it was the exact same, just that the hate and hurtful comments were shot at him by his “fans”.

The rest of the morning, Zitao tried to calm himself down, taking three showers, eating the little food he had at home, but mostly filled himself up with glass after glass of expensive whisky he had been gifted with a few months ago.

He would have kept drinking if his doorbell wouldn’t have started ringing. It kept filling the appartment with noise for several minutes. He didn’t want to open. Zitao knew who would be standing in front of it and the last thing he wanted to do was to talk to his manager right now. The loud noise didn’t stop though, even after he waited for over five minutes, hoping the older would give up.

“What” He asked into the microphone, the word annoyed not quite doing his tone credit. He was more than annoyed. Annoyed and angry, angry and furious, frustrated but most of all afraid. Afraid of the unknown future.

“OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT THIS INSTANT. WE HAVE TO TALK.”

Zitao knew he didn’t have a choice. Sooner or later he would have to open the door even if it was just for getting food. The persistency of his manager he knew very well, so all that was left to do was open the door and let him in.

“What the heck were you thinking?” His manager started as soon as he was halfway inside the apartment. “How many times have I told you to be careful?”

“GeGe, calm down.” Zitao said, tongue heavy from a few too many whiskies. He had troubles following his manager back to the living room, has the older always walked this rapidly? Zitao wasn’t sure but he could barely walk a straight line.

“Are you drunk?” The manager asked more himself than Zitao. “Of course, you are. Dammit Zitao how much did you drink?”

“A little.”

“I call bullshit. I won’t talk to you in this condition. You better sober up until tonight. We have many things to discuss. Drink water, go to bed. I will be back at 8pm, you better be in your right mind until then.”

The conversation with his manager went more civilised than expected. In conclusion: For now, everything was just a rumour started by an anonymous member of the Fan-Café who stated to have seen Zitao make out with a man. There were no pictures or videos - so, for now they could easily deny the relationship and call that post a scheme to attack Zitao’s fame, most likely started by a group of haters.

Zitao has been advised though, to break off all contact with Taemin for the time being and delete whatever digital proof there was of their relations. Mostly to protect himself and his reputation but that went hand in hand with keeping the second person’s identity a secret. Even though Zitao understood the situation - he knew that what his manager and his lawyer were saying and why it was important to follow their instructions - it turned out to be emotionally challenging to delete the conversations he had had with Taemin ever since the Korean male left China six months ago. So many nights they had texted while using translators, so many pictures had been sent back and forth and he was just getting rid of all these memories at once?

Informing Taemin about the issue turned out to be his lawyer’s job as he himself had been forbidden to contact the Korean male. His manager took his phone, gave him a new one and instructed him to only use that one from now on.

It kept Zitao up at night. The days after the rumour first started were dreadful. He barely went outside and felt disconnected to the world and especially to Taemin. He didn’t know what his lawyer had told him, he didn’t know how he reacted. Did he miss him as well?

Many times, he asked himself if all this was really worth it. Why did everyone care so much?

The worst part was the press-statement a few days after the rumour had started. He had to openly, in front of dozens of cameras, say that the rumour was fake, that he had never been in an intimate relationship with any man. He had to lie and say he wasn’t attracted to men. The answers had been rehearsed before, his manager making sure Zitao wouldn’t slip. With every word he said, he prayed that Taemin wouldn’t watch this. Because there was no way to contact him and explain the situation, he had to trust his lawyer to properly inform the Korean male, to tell him that everything Zitao said and the media spread were lies.

But of course, even though Zitao told him many times, he was sure that the lawyer wasn’t a person to pass on such personal messages and it pained Zitao to know that Taemin had no idea what was actually going on. He must hate him now. He was, basically, exchanging their love for his career. Quite frankly, Zitao despised himself more than he ever thought he could hate himself. 

Even though the rumour calmed down after the press conference, Zitao’s bad feeling never disappeared. He was constantly thinking about how it had come to this, where the point had been where everything went wrong. At least he was allowed to see people again, so there were some nights where he wasn’t alone.

“How are you doing?” Louyu said when he visited his friend one day.

“How do you think I am doing?” Zitao answered, theatrically holding up his glass filled with rum – the whiskey was long empty.

“That was a dumb question. I am sorry…”

“Yes, it was. But thank you for coming. I think I am going insane.” Zitao patted the seat next to him offering Louyu a spot to sit on.

“Who thought this would turn out to be such a big thing..”

“Can we not talk about it? I am surrounded by this crap every single day.”

“Sure. I will serve myself.” Louyu said, taking the freedom to fill himself a glass with the expensive alcohol as well before taking the seat next to his friend.

“So, what DO you want to talk about then?”

“Just distract me. I honestly don’t care what we talk about.”

Zitao really didn’t care from the beginning and the more alcohol was in their system, the less he cared anyway. The conversation turned in circles as the night went on until they both fell asleep on the floor, paper from previous games scatted around them.

“Zitao”

“Zitao.”

“hmmm?”

“Zitao!”

“What do you want?” Zitao mumbled still half asleep.

“You have to see this.”

The serious tone in Louyu’s voice made Zitao open his eyes despite feeling like crap. Slowly his dry eyes were focusing on the phone his friend showed him, making out a pixelated picture that he had troubles categorising.

“What’s that?” He said in a raspy voice, sitting up while his whole body was cracking painfully.

“It’s Taemin and you. They have a picture.”

“What?!” Zitao's voice was thin and filled with disbelief, instantly ripping the phone out of his friend’s hand to see better.

“Fuck” he mumbled when he saw it. It wasn’t a clear picture, nothing more than a CCTV screenshot and the first thing he checked was Taemin. The latter was luckily only seen from the back. They were kissing on the chair in the tattoo studio that morning when he got his dragon touched up. Taemin sat on his lap kissing him from slightly above while he saw his own hand being snug around the tattoo artist’s waist tightly. Even though his face was barely visible – covered by Taemin’s head and his hair, the tattoos on his arm and visible hand were indicator enough that it was really him.

“Where did this picture come from so suddenly?” Louyu said while Zitao buried his face in his hands.

He was at loss for words. There was nothing left to say. This ended the issue as well as starting it. Strangely enough, Zitao felt tears filling his eyes. That on its own wasn’t strange, the unexpected part was that those weren’t tears of despair and sadness but of relief. No more lies. No more pretending he wasn’t in love with a man.

“Don’t worry they will take care of this.” Louyu said, rubbing Zitao’s back when he saw the tears that were hidden behind the rapper’s tattooed fingers.

"I don't want them to." The rapper said, so softly that Louyu couldn't understand what he said.

Just minutes later, his manager was at the door, followed by the lawyer that had been with them ever since the first post had been made public. As soon as they arrived, Louyu was shown outside – according to the lawyer no one could be trusted in this situation and the outsider would just be interrupting their important task of saving Zitao’s career.

The latter was sitting at the table like a ghost, barely listening to what his manager and the other man were talking about. He just nodded whenever it was expected and starred at the table while he held onto his chair for dear life. Talking about how to deny everything annoyed him. He hated how these men treated his love and sexual orientation as something bad, as if it were a sin he should not have been committing. He hated every second of this conversation that he tried to stay out of as best as he could.

They were arguing what the best explanation for the picture would be and Zitao stopped paying attention after the first idea. Portraying Taemin as a tomboy woman? Who do they think they were? What was the difference there? His fans would still hate on him for kissing someone! After that he only registered a few more keywords like “photoshopped” “it wasn’t consensual, he was attacked” and something about the rehearsal of a new choreography for the music video that was supposed to drop in a few weeks.

At one point, Zitao had enough. None of this was an option but he couldn’t care less.

“Did you talk to Taemin?” he said, interrupting the flow of the discussion his manager and lawyer were involved in.

Those who were previously so busy talking about business suddenly got quiet.

“Did you talk to Taemin?” Zitao asked again as neither of the two men said anything.

“I said: Did. You. Talk. To. Taemin?” he repeated. Finally looking up from the table starring right into his lawyer’s eyes.

He had been told many times that he was intimidating when he stared at people - usually, he hated that people were afraid of him. But in that moment, he was angry, angry and enraged at the situation and how they acted like saving his reputation was the most important thing in the world that he made use of everything he had to get the reaction he wanted.

“I want to talk to him.”

“I am sorry but at the moment that is the worst thing you can do. If you want his identity to be kept hidden you must refrain from contacting him.” his manager said, the lawyer still frozen under Zitao's intense gaze.

“People are not dumb. They will find out who the second person in this picture is soon enough. Someone will know the room we are in and then it is just a matter of time until strings are connected.” Zitao said, standing up from the table. “I want to talk to him now. Give me my phone.”

“I am sorry we can’t let you do that.”

“Get out.” Zitao said calm on the outside, raging on the inside. If those men stayed inside his apartment one more minute he would explode.

“But we-“

“I said: Get. OUT” He growled and narrowed his eyes even more.

His lawyer looked over to his manager, to check how serious the situation was. The latter knew exactly when it was time to leave the scene. Zitao wasn’t a person to get angry easily, but god beware if you were around him if he did. So, the manager nodded, and they packed their things.

“We will come back tomorrow. Calm down until then so we can take care of this matter like adults.” Were the last words of his manager before Zitao shut the door with a loud bang.

That afternoon the rapper spent with a painful headache starring at his computer screen that was opened on Taemin’s Instagram account. All he wanted was to tell him the truth, talk to him, see him, hear his voice again even if he didn’t understand half of what he said.

In that moment he wished that he wasn’t famous. If he were just a regular guy their relationship would be so much easier. He kept asking himself if all of this was really worth it. Even more now then when the rumour had just started.

The only thing he was one hundred percent sure of, was that he wanted to keep Taemin safe at all cost. He had made the decision to be famous, he chose his passion as a career, fully aware of the consequences that affected his everyday life.

Taemin didn’t sign up for this. He just happened to fall in love with the wrong person. Zitao couldn’t let him get hurt by his “fans”. It wasn’t fair. So, despite every cell of his body puling him towards the DM button, he closed the laptop after a while, deciding that he would do as he was told and see where time got them. Maybe, after everything died down, he could go back to normal, contacting Taemin to explain everything. He would understand, wouldn’t he?

“This is bullshit” Zitao said when he listened to the proposal his manager showed him the next day. “You want me to deny everything? That is not going to work! That picture is a screenshot of a surveillance recording. I am sure the person has the full video. If I deny this they will make it public. At least I would.”

“We are prepared for that and are ready to get that video off the internet as soon as it turns up. We also have people looking for the origin of the account that is posting these and I am sure with enough money we can buy over the tape. All we need is a little more time.” His manager explained making Zitao moan.

“What guarantees that this works? I don’t want that video in the open. I know what is on that tape and believe me, you don’t want it leaked either. Denying will spiral this into something way worse. I don’t want to provoke them.” Everything Zitao said was heavy with despair, his voice barely balancing between a civilised tone and intense growling.

“Are you saying you want to come out to the whole Republic of China?!” His manager said in disbelief.

“If that is what is needed, I will do it.”

“You don’t know what the consequences will be.”

“And neither do you. But it is definitely better than pulling Taemin into this. I would rather have it focus on me and get it over with.” Zitao said, voice finally calming down from his previous outbreak.

“This could be the end of your career.”

“I know.”

“I will need to discuss this with the CEO. This isn’t a decision we can make on our own. You have signed a contract so I hope you are reasonable enough to not do anything hastily.” His manager finally gave in and left the apartment soon after, using the underground garage to flee from the masses of reporters that were crowding the building.

While the internet was going crazy about the issue, all Zitao could do was to wait for his manager to get back to him. Which happened two days later. Two very long days later. He didn’t come with good news though. The CEO had made his decision and it didn’t line up with Zitao’s wishes. The damage-control-plan had been chosen and had already been put into motion when his manager met up with him.

That very night, Zitao finally made a decision for himself. For the first time since this started, he took his life back into his own hands. Choosing how to act on his own. Following what he thought was right instead of listening to those around him who probably just wanted to keep their jobs.

He booked a flight to Seoul. Under his name with the cheapest airline he could find. There was barely any time left until he would have to go to the airport as the flight was early next morning. Preparations had to be done in the time span of 12 hours. He packed necessities into his favourite travel bag, changed the code to his apartment door and made a trip to the closest ATM he could find.

While he was withdrawing a generous amount of cash so he wouldn’t have to use his card during the next few days, he realised that he might have watched a little to many spy-movies and giggled at the crazy situation he was in. They would eventually find out where he was but he didn’t have to make it easy for them. Just a few days are enough to collect his thoughts and think about how he wanted to handle this messed up situation.

Luckily many of the reporters that were around his building had left to go home – it was 3am after all – so sneaking back into the building was possible without being recognised.

He couldn’t sleep. Nervousness spread through his veins and his pulse couldn’t calm down no matter how hard he tried. He was just sitting on his couch, rocking his legs while he waited for the time to pass. Of course, time passed so slowly that he almost turned insane. In a moment of weakness, when he went to the bathroom, he took it upon himself to cut off his bleached hair with his electric razor, leaving only black stubbles, completely changing his appearance.

“What happened to you?” he asked his own reflection as he stared at his face. The absence of his usually long hair was so unfamiliar And the cut was so bad that he almost regretted doing it. On the other hand, he definitely wouldn’t be recognised like this if he wore a mask and a turtleneck. The lack of hair underlined the strong features of his face and the soft stubbles of his unshaved beard made him look like the most regular Chinese man on earth.

It felt sort of good to be regular. Funny enough he felt more like himself looking like this than he had ever felt with his styled hair and shaved face. He took his sweet time to clean the sink, getting rid of all the hair that was lying around before he put on the clothes he had prepared for the trip: a brown turtleneck that had oversized sleeves that covered every part of his arms including his hands to hide the tattoos, black jeans that were shaped awkwardly and a basic one-use mask that covered the lower part of his face but also just looked at if he was sick.

His eyes were not much of a problem this time around. Even though they were his most prominent characteristic, people had barely seen them without make up and they were puffy and red due to the lack of sleep he had gotten the last days, especially that night.

Around 6am he finally called a cab that was supposed to get him out of here without being noticed. He instructed the driver to enter the underground parking lot, giving him access from the control panel in his apartment. A few minutes later, he was walking over to the cab whose driver was feeling visibly uncomfortable. It was an elderly man and for a second Zitao thanked the heavens that it wasn’t someone who could possibly know him.

“Thank you.” Zitao said when the driver lifted his bag into the trunk of the car, eyeing the obviously expensive bag for a second too long to be natural.

“Where can I take you sir?” The man asked when they were sitting inside.

“Bejing Capital Airport” Zitao answered.

There weren’t any more words spoken throughout the drive until they approached the destination. It was the driver who spoke up.

“I am sorry for asking, but may I know why you are traveling with me? I have the impression that you could have easily afforded a nicer ride to the airport.”

“I have my reasons and I would be glad if you would not tell people about this.” Zitao said, receiving a worried look from the elderly man through the mirror.

“Are you alright, son?” he asked with a concerned voice and Zitao’s throat closed for a second. He hadn’t been called son for many years and hearing it in this strange situation made his heart clench. He was close to crying once more.

“I am fine. Don’t worry about me.” Zitao answered softly, afraid of his voice breaking.

“We have arrived.” The driver brought the car to a hold, parking it in front of the main entrance that was just starting to get busy.

“Thank you. Keep the change” Zitao said, handing the man an envelope of money that was at least ten times the amount that the clock was displaying.

Before the man could say anything or give back the money, Zitao had already pulled up his mask again and got out of the car. Just seconds later he had his bag and bowed the elderly man goodbye, smiling underneath the fabric of his mask.

“Thank you, sir!” Was all that he could make out before he walked away in fast steps.

He had never taken a flight by himself. At least his manager had accompanied him whenever he left Bejing – or he was traveling with the private jet for his own amusement. Walking into the entrance hall of the huge airport alone was something new. He wasn’t followed or mobbed neither by fans nor by the press. He wasn’t in a hurry, he wasn’t taken care of by the staff but had to find his own way to the check-in which was harder done than said.

It took him several minutes to find the right place to get in line and waited for his turn. No one was paying much attention to him and he held onto his passport and ticket tightly. Over and over he reassured himself: It’s going to be ok.

The flight itself was uneventful. The seats were too close together, his legs touched the ones of the woman next to him and his knees were painfully squeezed by the seat in front of him. But he didn’t mind too much. He just kept praying that no one would recognize him so he could get to his destination in peace.

When they finally landed, he was the first one to get up and felt so incredibly dumb when he had to wait for over 10 more minutes, just standing next to his seat because they had to reach the terminal first and then there were about one hundred people in front of him.

Getting into the country was a piece of cake and right after exchanging the money, he took a cab to Taemin’s studio. He was lucky enough to remember, because the address was nowhere to be found in the internet – for legal reasons as Taemin had explained to him.

Zitao was still wearing his mask though – just to be safe. Even though he doubted that someone would recognise him, he really didn’t want this all to fail just because of his carelessness.

Standing in front of the building Taemin’s studio was located in felt surreal. The last time he was here was back almost two years and they had just spent their first night with each other. It was afternoon so Zitao hoped for Taemin to be working at this hour.

His bag thrown over his shoulder, he walked up the stairs of the building – the door downstairs wasn’t locked this year either. Everything was exactly like last time. The wooden door firmly closed, the window in the stairway still broken. Zitao wondered if they would ever get it fixed.

With a beating heart, he knocked on the door to avoid walking into a tattoo session without invitation. It took a while until he heard movement from the inside, that he was about to settle in to wait when the door was pushed open by a hand he was very familiar with.

Taemin’s eyes went wide when he registered who was standing in front of his door looking at the Chinese male in shock. He instantly froze and was trying to say something, failing at producing sound.

Zitao didn’t know what to say either, not that he could have said much in Korean anyway. For several seconds they were just staring into each other’s eyes, tension heating up every passing one. Zitao was the one to move closer and just before he lost control and was about to kiss the man until he dropped, he noticed the third person that was watching the door from the back of the room.

Taemin shook his head the moment Zitao realised that there was a customer inside.

“Now, no.” The tattoo artist said in Chinese and the taller understood instantly, replying with a Korean phrase he had studied.

“I am sorry.”

Taemin looked as impressed as Zitao had a few seconds ago but his face turned serious just after.

Without another word, he turned around to go back in the studio, just gesturing Zitao to wait outside. He said something to the man sitting in the back as he rummaged through some books that were spread on a small table, taking a pen while he copied something off his phone onto a sticky note.

There were a few awkward looks exchanged between Zitao and the customer but neither cared too much about the other.

Finally Taemin returned with a book and the sticky note.

“Easy Chinese Phrases for Everyday Use” was the title of the book which was written both in Chinese and Korean. But the more interesting part was the note.

"There is a coffee shop around the corner. Wait for me there. 2 hours."

The note said, Chinese characters scribbled messily on the paper. Zitao nodded, taking it, hands lingering on Taemin’s a second longer than would have been natural. It needed all his self-control to not take his hand. All these days he craved to finally feel the tattoo artist's touch again and now he had to cut it this short, it was almost painful.

While he was sitting in the small coffee shop Taemin had pointed him to, Zitao had no way to spend the time apart from reading the book Taemin had given him. He didn’t bring a phone and there wasn’t anyone to talk to.

The book was filled with Taemin’s notes, repeating the written characters on the sides, filling out exercises. Zitao’s chest filled with warmth when he realised how much time the other had spent studying Chinese merely to talk to him. It made him feel bad about the lack of effort he had shown in his Korean studies.

While he was waiting for the two hours to pass, the rapper thought he could make something of his time and started memorizing some of the easier phrases on the first few pages and after a nice encounter with a student on the next table, he even had a pen to take notes.

“Zitao” A voice reached the rapper’s ears and he looked up instantly.

Taemin was here. He finally came. Without thinking for a second, Zitao packed all his things in a hurry and followed the tattoo artist outside who pulled him by the wrist as soon as he was close enough to reach his hand.

They weren’t running but didn’t waste a second to get back to the studio. It was the closest place and neither of them could stay apart for much longer.

The moment the door closed after them, they were all over each other. Zitao pressed Taemin against the cold stone wall while he was getting rid of his shoes and moved his lips on the other’s. He tasted so good that all of Zitao’s brain was filled with good feelings, happiness of being re-united, the feeling of belonging somewhere, the feeling of being loved.

It was strange, but all the worries he had carried with himself for over two weeks evaporated into thin air simply from Taemin’s touch. The sudden release of tension brought tears into his eyes. Not tears of sadness not tears of happiness, tears of relief. Nothing really mattered anymore because he suddenly knew the answers to all the questions he had asked himself ever since the scandal first turned up.

He wasn’t going to pretend it was just a rumour. He wasn’t going to deny his relations. He didn’t want to go back to China. He was sick of being in the public eye. He needed a break.

The clearer everything got, the more tears filled his eyes until they streamed down his face, coating their kissing lips in salty liquid. This – of course – didn’t go by unnoticed by Taemin who pulled away, looking worried.

“Come in.” He said in Chinese, his Korean accent warming the taller’s heart.

Taemin never let go of Zitao’s hand he was holding tightly as they walked inside the studio, sitting down on the couch. There was another moment of silence as they were used to it before Taemin used his free hand to run through Zitao’s hair – or lack there of.

He said something in Korean the Chinese male did not understand and then proceeded to type something into his phone.

-What happened to your hair?

-I cut it at 4am this morning.

Zitao typed back, making Taemin laugh.

-I am so sorry. I had no way to contact you. Everything is a mess.

He then added with a heavy heart.

-I know. I have been reading articles on your fansites.

-You did? That’s not a good idea.

-I know, but they are well informed and that lawyer of yours didn’t tell me anything apart from the fact that I am not allowed to contact you for your own and my well-being.

-They only know what the public knows. They don't know how it felt. They don't know how I feel.

-So how do you feel?

-I was helpless. They made all the decisions for me. They made me lie about things I never wanted to lie about. I am so sorry.

Zitao's hands were trembling when he gave the phone back to Taemin who read the latest message with sad eyes.

"It's ok." He then said in Chinese making Zitao feel even worse about the fact that he wasn't able to say anything properly.

-But how did you get here? Do they know you left China?

It was obvious that the second question was rethorical, Taemin seemed to know exactly that they had no idea.

-I just left after they decided on how to proceed without consulting me. Well they did consult me but didn't care about my wishes and just started contacting the media without telling me about how they would handle it. I couldn't even stop them. They just did what they thought was right and I couldn't take it anymore. The whole time I had been doing what they told me without wanting to and at some point I snapped. So I booked a flight and now I am here.

It took him quite a while to type everything and just when the silence got uncomfortable, Taemin started caressing Zitao's hand that he was still holding. With his thumb he drew circles on the inked backside of the rapper's hand, encouraging him to take his time writing. They weren't in a rush after all.

When he finally finished the paragraph, he handed the phone over and Taemin read it attentively.

"Will you be ok?"

The answer that Taemin wrote was way shorter than his explanation. How could Taemin not be angry at him?

-Why are you not angry? I don't understand?

-I don’t blame you.

“I am so sorry.” Zitao answered in Korean and squeezed Taemin’s hand that brought him so much re-assurance that everything will turn out well. The tattoo artist answered with a soft smile, pulling him closer by the arm.

Just seconds after, they were heavily making out on the couch. It wasn’t heated, it was desperate, neither of them quite knowing how to act, neither of them knowing where everything would go from there. Some pecks were placed on the side edges of Zitao’s lips while their hands were caressing each other’s neck, playing with hair – short and long one.

As the kiss got more heated, Zitao pulled away slightly but only to wander his kisses further down, covering all of Taemin’s neck and exposed chest area with pecks and hickeys that blended beautifully with the scattered artwork on the tattoo artist’s skin. The latter had closed his eyes and bent back his head in pleasure, offering all of himself to the man ravishing his body. As he was enjoying the attention he was given, Taemin placed one of his legs in a position where his knee was pressing onto Zitao’s crotch area to thank him for the pleasure he received, making the Chinese release a throaty moan between two kisses.

Soon enough, Zitao felt Taemin’s hands taking a hold of his head from both sides, pulling him back up almost violently to press their lips back together. Immediately, he opened his mouth to grant the tattoo artist the access he was demanding, and their tongues were licking each other in a matter of seconds. Spit was coating their lips, dripping down their chins. While their tongues were busy, their lips stayed parted for the most time, only closing from time to time when one of them felt the need to suck on the other’s tongue or just simply was looking for another sensation.

With time, the kiss slowly calmed down and ended in a lazy kiss until Zitao pulled away after a few more soft pecks, leaving both of them with wet, red and in fact very swollen lips.

Zitao felt safe in Taemin’s arms and even after they stopped kissing, they remained in the same position, both of them enjoying the way their bodies were pressed against each other.

-So, what are you going to do?

Taemin asked him using the translator.

Zitao thought about the question for a few moments. Deep down, he had known the answer for quite a while but meeting Taemin again reassured him that this was the only option he could live with. He held out his hand to take the phone as expected but instead of typing something on the translator app, he closed it and opened Instagram. After a few tries he succeeded in finding the right button to log out of Taemin’s account and logged into his own.

The tattoo artist couldn’t do anything but watch while Zitao took a picture of their intertwined hands and added a simple heart to the caption. For the first time since he had started the application, Zitao looked at Taemin in desperate need of approval.

His eyes asked: are you ok with me posting this?

Taemin’s eyes narrowed for a second and then he lifted an eyebrow as if he was asking him if he was sure. Zitao nodded slowly silently answering the unspoken question and held out the phone for Taemin to take.

He wanted to let the tattoo artist decide if it should be posted or not. After all, he would be pulled into this sooner or later depending on how long it took people to add one and one together.

“Let’s go.” Taemin said in English taking one last, deep breath before he pressed “post” and both of them watched together how the picture popped up in the overview of Zitao's posts, now for 9.7 million people to see.

As soon as it was there, Zitao ripped the phone out of Taemin’s hand, turning it off and placing it on the table next to them before he kissed the tattoo artist like it was the last thing he would do in his life.

“사랑해” He said in a rare second that their lips were not pressed against each other, Taemin replying with “我爱你” Just a few seconds later. A phrase both of them understood in each other’s language. A phrase that meant so much more than just what it stood for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy just a quick reminder that if you have just a minute, you could make this author's day by leaving a short comment with your thoughts about this story!
> 
> Have a good day, stay safe and remind the people around them that you love them! An "I love you" can be more meaningful than you might think! Which is why it is the last thing these two cuties say to each other!


End file.
